


Love is Like the Wind

by lavieboheme0919



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Aphasia, Awesome Allison, Bed-Wetting, Birthday Presents, Derek and Stiles Cuddle, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Frontotemporal Dementia, Hospitals, Hotel Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nobody we liked died, Oral Sex, Peter is sassy and unhelpful, Rage, San Diego, Season 3 never really happened, Sick Stiles, Some Humor, Stiles throws a fit, Stiles watches porn, The Fault in Our Stars references, This story is very sad!, but information gained from it is referenced, cousin Miguel, fugue state, references to anal sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavieboheme0919/pseuds/lavieboheme0919
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Walk To Remember AU: Stiles has frontotemporal dementia. There are moments when he's completely himself, but he can't express it. There are moments when he has no idea who anyone around him is, still Derek is there to help him make sense of the world around him. This story will deal with heavy themes. I'll try to post trigger warnings as necessary. If there are any you think I should add, let me know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CMTilney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMTilney/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sterek AU's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167165) by [CMTilney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMTilney/pseuds/CMTilney). 



> This story might be incredibly triggering. Read at your own risk. It is mostly Seasons 1 and 2 compliant, but disregards almost all of season 3. It is based on a gifset au by Tumblr user Tilneyhale.

The fog was lifting. The beeping sound filled his ears. As he looked around, he had no idea where he was or how he got there. His heart raced and the beeping got quicker. There was a man sitting beside the bed. He was tall, muscular, with stubble. His intense eyes were intimidating. "Who are you?" he asked. He had to keep sentences simple or the words would get mixed up between his brain and his mouth.

"I'm Derek," the man replied calmly. This was now the 54th introduction he'd given to the boy in the hospital bed. Sometimes he woke up perfectly lucid. Today wasn't one of those days, it seemed.

Stiles took a deep breath, concentrating again in an attempt to get more information. "Why… you're here?" He knew he messed that one up and frustration fell over his face.

"I'm your boyfriend," Derek reminded him.

"I don't know you," Stiles replied with considerable struggle. He couldn't have a boyfriend. He'd remember if he did. He'd especially remember if he had a boyfriend who was that handsome.

"You did once," Derek said wistfully.

The man looked so sad that Stiles figured perhaps he was telling the truth. "What's happening?"

Someone else entered the room. He was much older than Derek. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Stiles still couldn't place him. "How is he?"

"He just woke up," Derek replied.

The older man furrowed his brow and Derek responded with a simple head shake. He knew they were somehow talking about him, but to call them out on it would require too much effort and there was no guarantee that what he wanted to say would end up being what actually came out of his mouth.

"Are you hungry?" the older man asked Stiles.

Stiles had to think for a second, trying to remember what "hungry" might feel like before deciding to just say "Yes."

The older man nodded and disappeared again. "Who is he?" Stiles asked.

"That's your dad," Derek replied.

Realizing that he had parents, Stiles became curious. He took a deep breath before forcing out his next question. "Where's my mom?"

This was the first time Stiles had ever asked this question. Usually he asked the same questions and Derek gave him the answers, just thankful to hear Stiles' voice for twenty minutes or so before the effort of talking rendered the young man too tired to stay awake. He, Scott, and Stiles' father had made a pact: they would always answer Stiles honestly, even if the information might be painful to reveal. "She's no longer with us," Derek replied, euphemistically.

Though he knew that phrase had some significance, he wasn't sure what it really meant. "Ran away?" he asked.

Derek leaned closer, taking Stiles' hand in his. "No. She… uh…" he struggled, not sure how Stiles would react. "She died." He didn't mention that she died from the exact thing that was slowly claiming him.

"Am I die?" he asked.  _No_ , he thought.  _That was wrong._  He hit himself repeatedly, trying to force the words to come out properly. Derek reached up and grabbed his hands to prevent any attempts at self-harm. If the nurses saw it, they'd put Stiles in wrist restraints and Derek would likely be arrested for killing one of them. Stiles was already so vulnerable. Derek couldn't stomach seeing him tied down like that. Even imagining that possibility made him nauseous.

"We all eventually die," Derek replied. It wasn't a lie, per se. Derek just didn't want to think about the day when Stiles wouldn't wake up from one of his many long naps.

The answer satisfied Stiles temporarily. He yawned, his energy entirely sapped.  _What was his name? It started with the letter D_ , he thought.  _Daniel? No._ "I want to sleep now," he whispered, rolling onto his side and closed his eyes. "Goodnight, David."

* * *

 

_It was the largest, brightest meteor shower in living memory. There was no way in Hell Stiles was going to miss it. Scott was busy with Allison and Lydia was still pretending they weren't soul mates… more specifically, she was pretending she didn't know who he was. He knew that she really didn't, which bugged him even more. They had been in the same class all through elementary school and had at least one class together in middle and high school. She was going to be Valedictorian and he was in line to be Salutatorian, but she still didn't know his name. He was mostly over her, but there were still moments when the thoughts of her perfection crossed his mind and his heart hurt._

_A bottle of Jack Daniels he'd stolen from his father in hand, he trudged to his favorite clearing in the Beacon Hills Preserve. He took a swig from the bottle and stared up at the night sky, hoping to drown out a week's worth of stress. He didn't know how to even bring it up to his father and he already knew what Scott's answer would be and it wasn't one that he wanted._

_He was a good third of the way into the bottle when he heard footsteps. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"_

_"You're not my father, Derek," Stiles replied grumpily._

_"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Derek asked._

_"Number 7, man," Stiles said matter-of-factly, taking another swig. "Number 7."_

_Derek stood over him, clearly unamused. "You're drunk."_

_Stiles laughed for a second before realizing Derek didn't know about his list. "No man. 7 on my list of things to do before I die. You know, 15 graduate high school, 12 go skinny dipping… 5, get married in the same church as my parents. Number 42 is to befriend someone I don't like." He took another swig before looking back up at the scowling werewolf. "Which reminds me… Do you need a friend, Derek?"_

_Derek looked even less amused than he was before. "Go home, Stiles."_

_"Can't," Stiles replied apathetically, drinking down yet more whiskey._

_"Did you forget where you live?" Derek asked, pulling Stiles unceremoniously to his feet._

_"No, dumbass," Stiles growled. "Because I'm fucking wasted and I drove here. Do you know how bad it would look on my dad if I got a DUI at 16 years old?"_

_"I'll take you home," Derek offered._

_Stiles pulled his arm out of Derek's hand, walking away from him. "I don't need your help."_

_"Are you planning on walking home while drunk off your ass?"_

_"Why the fuck do you care?" Stiles demanded._

_"Because you've saved my life a couple of times," Derek replied, turning around and heading back the way he came. "But if you really want to walk the two hours-worth of walking that it will take to get home, more power to you. Just don't say I didn't try."_

_"Nobody asked you to, Derek!" Stiles shouted. "If I wanted to be home right now, don't you think I'd fucking be there! Home is the last place I want to be…"_

_Those words stopped Derek in his tracks. He turned around. "What's this really about? And keep in mind, I'll know if you're lying."_

_Stiles rolled his eyes. "It doesn't fucking matter. We're not friends, Derek. We barely tolerate each other for Scott's sake. If I'm not going to tell Scott or my dad, why would I tell you?"_

_"Because I know all too well how much pain holding secrets can cause," Derek told him. "And Scott doesn't care for me. You do."_

_Stiles wiped his eyes. "Jesus Christ… I save your life a few times and you get all sentimental about it."_

_Derek moved closer to him, putting a brotherly arm around his shoulders. "You don't have to tell me what's going on. But you should know that if you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here for you."_

* * *

 

Derek stepped out of the hospital room. Melissa and John were speaking in hushed voices. It didn't matter how hushed they were, Derek could still hear them. "The aphasia is getting worse. He can barely form sentences anymore, Melissa. When Claudia got this bad…"

"People can live for decades with this disorder," Melissa reminded him.

"I think you and I are beginning to define 'live' in different ways," Derek said, cutting in.

"There's always plan B," John pointed out.

"He doesn't want the Bite," Derek insisted. "Scott and I are agreed. He wants to stay human. We won't turn him."

John looked ashamed that the thought even crossed his mind. "We'll make sure he's comfortable," Melissa pointed out. "The three of us can agree that we love that kid dearly. In the final stages, he won't even realize what's going on."

"That doesn't make it better," Derek said softly.

"I know," Melissa said. "But  _he_  won't be suffering."

"He still has more lucid days than not. Let's stop talking about him like he's already beyond our reach. He can't always express himself, but Stiles is still in there… and rather than mourning him while he's still alive, I'm going to spend all the time with him I can," Derek said, disgusted as he turned around and went back into the room, moving his chair closer to Stiles' bed. He crawled into the bed next to Stiles as he often did. Stiles seemed to like the comfort of Derek's arm being around him because he only had nightmares when Derek slept on the chair instead.

It was a very thin rope Derek seemed to walk on. Each time he slept beside Stiles, he risked Stiles waking up next to someone he considered a stranger, yet he could hear how calm Stiles' heart and breath were as they lay together. For a little while, he could remember what it was like before the disease began to take hold of him.

The next morning, a nurse woke them. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hale. The doctor has ordered some blood tests."

"The amount of blood you take from him, I'm starting to wonder if you're a vampire," Derek joked as he crawled out of the bed. "How are his panels?"

"So far so good," she said. "Nothing to worry about."

Derek focused his hearing after asking his next question. "How much longer can we expect him to have 'good days'?"

"It's hard to say, really," she replied. "I've seen this go different ways. Sometimes they hang on for a long time… and sometimes it happens quickly. There's no way tell which route any patient might take. Just make the moments you have count."

Her heart remained steady. She drew the blood she needed and left as Stiles was waking up. "Hi," he said softly.

Derek smiled at him. "Hi."

"S—sleep well?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah," Derek replied. "You?"

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut. "I—I—I felt… you," he managed. Derek noticed his stutter was getting worse. He'd done the research and he knew that if the speech issues continued to get worse, soon Stiles would be unable to communicate at all.

Another nurse came in with Stiles' breakfast. "Good morning Mr. Stilinski and Mr. Hale," she said.

"G—good morning," Stiles managed.

She sat the tray down. "I'll be back in a bit to collect it," she told them before leaving.

Derek sat the tray on Stiles' lap. This morning Stiles had scrambled eggs, oatmeal, and fruit. Stiles picked up the fork and scooped some of the eggs onto it. As he brought it to his lips, a spasm of his hand sent the eggs flying. Derek could hear Stiles' heart begin to race and the tears of frustration started to leak from the corners of his eyes because he remembered when his mom couldn't feed herself. Stiles threw the plastic fork angrily onto the tray, burying his reddening face in his hands.

He hated this lack of independence and Derek could tell he was starting to lose the will to fight. "It's alright, Stiles," Derek assured him, picking up the fork and helping him to eat. Stiles cried throughout the meal and refused to eat more than half of it.

"Not h—hungry," he stammered, curling up on his side.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Derek asked. "Maybe some fresh air would do you good."

Stiles nodded. Derek went to the nurse's station to let them know their plan. Upon returning to the room, he helped Stiles into a pair of sweatpants and tied the hospital gown more tightly, wanting to preserve his boyfriend's modesty.

It took several minutes for Stiles to finally get steady on his feet. He hung tightly to the pole connected to his IV. Derek helped support him as he transferred Stiles into the wheel chair. There was a nice park-like area behind the hospital. He knew Stiles enjoyed that area so he brought him out there.

Stiles loved the feeling of the sun on his skin. It was something he missed. "Scott?" Stiles asked.

"He'll be here later today," Derek promised.

"I m—m—miss h—h—h—h—him," Stiles said.

"I know you do," Derek said softly. He wanted to take Stiles' mind off of Scott so he tried to start conversation. "Your birthday is next week. What would you like?"

"Go h—home," Stiles replied.

"Your dad and I can talk to the doctor," Derek replied. "We can see if he'll give you a discharge for the day."

"No," Stiles replied as they reached the area beneath the oak tree that Stiles preferred to sit in. Derek locked the wheels and sat on the bench beside him. "Go h—home. And stay there."

"I'll do my best," Derek said.

Stiles reached a shaky hand over and took Derek's. "Kiss me," he said clearly. Derek smiled and leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on Stiles' cheek. When he pulled back, he saw that Stiles was crying again.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked.

"Kiss me," Stiles repeated. "Like you used t—to."

Though Stiles' lips were chapped and not as soft and supple as they once had been, Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles the way he wanted to be kissed. It was deep and passionate. When Derek finally pulled away, his eyes fluttered for a few moments before gazing into Stiles' brown eyes. "I love you," he said softly.

"Who are you?" Stiles asked him. The window of lucidity was gone. This time, it was Derek's turn to cry.

"I'm your boyfriend," Derek explained.

Stiles nodded. "Oh right…" he said. "You're Devon…"

"Derek, actually," he corrected. "My name's Derek."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This is just a taste of how this story is going to go. This story is going to be kind of a sad one. Please give me feedback on the chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

_Tick. Tock. Stiles glanced over to the bright red numbering that told him it was still only 12:43 in the morning. Mentally, he was exhausted, but every time he tried to go to sleep, his mind would begin to race. Realizing the futility of remaining in his bed all night, he wandered over to his computer, booting it up. He checked several of his favorite websites before opening the instant messenger application on his computer. Everyone he knew was listed as offline, except one person who instantly messaged him._

> **dhale88** _: Shouldn't you be in bed right now?  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: Shouldn't you? Or are you too busy howling at the moon?  
> _ **dhale88** _: A howling at the moon joke aimed at a werewolf. That's original.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: It's funny. I can see you brooding even through IM.  
> _ **dhale88** _: I don't brood! I scowl. There's a difference.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: Yeah ok. Whatever helps you not sleep at night._

_Several minutes passed with no conversation between them as Stiles thumbed mindlessly through a textbook sitting on his desk. A noise from his computer startled him slightly and he looked back at the conversation window._

> **dhale88** _: Does this have anything to do with you drinking yourself into oblivion the night of the meteor shower?  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: Even if it did, why would I tell you?  
> _ **dhale88** _: Because you have circles under your eyes so dark someone could mistake you for a very pale, scrawny raccoon.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: So are you trying to diagnose me with insomnia or something?  
> _ **dhale88** _: Not really  
> _ **dhale88** _: but if the shoe fits…  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: well have you ever considered the fact that I have ADHD and don't always take my Adderall the way it's prescribed… and one of the side-effects of that drug is insomnia?  
> _ **dhale88** _: actually… no.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: Okay then, Derek. Stop trying to parent me. I know you're trying to help or you think you're trying to help or whatever. But I don't need it.  
> _ **dhale88** _: I'd tell you to take a chill pill, but that'd be mildly inappropriate.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: You're right. It would.  
> _ **dhale88** _: Try taking melatonin. Or warm milk. My mom would always do that for me.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname:** _Thanks. I'll try that.  
> _ **dhale88** _: I'm going to sign off and get some sleep. Brooding and scowling can be exhausting.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: lol and thanks again, Derek. Sorry I was being kind of an ass.  
> _ **dhale88** _: apology accepted. Good night.  
> _ **betchacantsaymyname** _: good night!_

_Stiles closed the conversation window and turned the computer off again before heading into his bathroom to see if he might have some melatonin that he could use. He didn't. His father, however, did. Stiles tapped two tablets into his palm and put the bottle back before heading downstairs and pouring some milk into a pan and slowly heating it on the stove. He washed the small pills down with the milk and returned to his bed where he was able to accomplish a few hours of sleep before his alarm clock woke him up the next morning for school._

* * *

"How is he?" Scott asked as he barreled down the hallway. Derek was sitting on a bench outside the room.

"He's sleeping right now. But pretty soon, they'll be taking him for an MRI," Derek said.

"How are  _you_  doing?" Scott couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Derek look so ragged. It was obvious he wasn't sleeping.

"As well as I can, I guess," Derek replied as he stood up to stretch. "He wants to go home for his birthday."

"I can talk to my mom about a day pass discharge," Scott suggested.

Shaking his head, Derek clarified. "He wants to be permanently discharged from the hospital. I think he's starting to give up."

Scott peered through the small window of Stiles' room door, watching as his best friend—his brother rested. "We could still do it, you know," Scott whispered. "Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"John mentioned it, too," Derek replied. "But Stiles told us he didn't want to become a werewolf. Believe me… the thought crosses my mind, too."

"It's just… we could help him. We could  _fix_  him and he knows that but he won't let us," tears formed in Scott's eyes and he struggled to blink them away.

"I know," Derek sighed. "But I don't think he'd even survive the bite at this point. He's gotten so weak. I just wish there was something we could do to give him hope again."

"Maybe he's already told us how," Scott pointed out.

Derek raised an eyebrow in curious confusion.

"Stiles has always hated hospitals. When he was little, he was here all the time to be with his mom… but he was here when she died. Since then, he's really associated hospitals with death. Maybe he wants us to bring him home so that he  _can_  get better?" Scott suggested.

"But our wedding wasn't official and as his next of kin, we need to convince John of that," Derek said. "He wants Stiles as close as possible to medical care and I don't blame him."

"I'll talk to my mom. She'll be able to reason with him," Scott said. Derek smiled. For the first time in a while, he had hope that things might get better.

* * *

_Stiles had a love-hate relationship with school. On one hand, he recognized it as a necessary evil. That said, it had a terrible habit of getting in the way and taking up his time when he could spend it helping to stop_ actual _evil. He also wanted more of a front-row seat. He was tired of being Robin to Scott's Batman. It was_ his _plans that always saved their asses. And most of them were concocted while sitting in a classroom not paying an ounce of attention to the words coming out of the teacher's face._

_He thought about the reasons why Derek might be so insistent on trying to help and wondered if he might know something. He was thankful that the bell rang and he had a free period. He was feeling tired and decided to go to the Lacrosse bleachers to take a nap. The stands were hard and uncomfortable, but he didn't care. The moment his head rested on his backpack and his eyes were closed, he was out._

_He awoke to Scott shaking him. "Dude… you need to change for practice! Stiles! Wake up!"_

_Gasping for air, he looked around. "Shit! What time is it?"_

" _It's almost 4:30. Practice starts soon. You need to go change!" Scott repeated._

_Stiles shook his head. "I can't go to practice…"_

" _Why not?"_

" _Because I forgot to set an alarm… I slept through Coach's class. If I show up to practice, he'll think I purposely skipped…" Stiles said._

_Scott seemed confused. "What are you talking about?"_

" _I came out here to take a nap during my free period. I must have slept through the rest of the day," Stiles explained._

_Scott shook his head. "But you were in class. You actually answered three of Coach's questions correctly… that's why you don't have to do laps today."_

_Stiles laughed. "I must have really conked out and dreamt that I missed class. Sorry. I'll go change. See ya on the field." Stiles headed into the locker room before turning and heading to the parking lot. Pulling out his phone, he searched for one contact and called Derek. "Are you at your loft?" he asked the moment Derek answered._

" _Yeah. Why?" Derek asked._

" _I'm coming over," Stiles said._

" _Is everything okay?"_

" _I don't know… I just need someone I can bounce ideas off of…"_

" _Alright, I'll see you when you get here," Derek replied._

* * *

"Are you sure this is what he wants?" John asked Derek.

Derek nodded. "And I think it'll be what's best for him. Scott agrees."

"You and Scott also agree on not doing the thing that will save his life," John said coldly. "So forgive me if I'm not thrilled by the idea of anything you two agree on."

"He doesn't want it," Derek replied. He struggled to do so, but he managed to make sure his voice held no edge. He understood John's frustration.

"Half the time he doesn't know what he wants anymore," John said. "I'd rather him live as a werewolf than watch him die like I had to watched his mother die."

"But would you want him to live hating all of us for what we did to him?" Derek asked. "The thought crosses my mind every single day. The thing that prevents me is knowing that if I did it, it would be a betrayal that Stiles would never forgive me for."

John began to cry. Derek knew it would happen eventually. He expected the Sheriff would only be able to maintain his composure in public for so long. He tried to comfort the man who should have become his father-in-law by hugging him. "I just don't know why he'd want me to go through this again," John sobbed into Derek's shoulder.

* * *

_Derek was doing push-ups on the floor of his loft as Stiles slid the door open. Immediately he got to his feet. "You were speeding," he said with a smirk. There was no witty comeback, just a confused glance. Immediately Derek regretted the joke he made. "Are you alright?"_

" _I don't know," Stiles replied honestly. "I really don't know."_

" _You look like you haven't slept in days," Derek pointed out, helping Stiles to the couch._

" _I feel like I haven't… but I remember falling asleep. I'm not sure what's happening," Stiles replied. After a few moments of silence, Stiles looked up from his hands and stared into the Alpha's eyes. "I'm scared, Derek."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _I'm missing time…" Stiles replied. "I remember going out to the bleachers during my free period to take a nap. I didn't wake up until Scott woke me up around 4:30. But he says I attended my other classes that day. He said I was in Coach's class and that I answered questions correctly. But I_ know _that I didn't."_

" _Maybe you're so tired you just don't remember," Derek suggested. "Insomnia can have strange side-effects."_

_Stiles shook his head. "I've gone a while without sleep before. This isn't new to me. But this is the first time I've ever done something that I don't remember doing."_

_Derek could tell how legitimately worried Stiles was and decided to try and help. "How about you crash here for the night. I'll watch over you and make sure you don't sleep walk or something."_

" _Won't that be weird, though?" Stiles asked. "I mean you and I have only just started interacting with one another in a civilized manner."_

" _We'll consider it an opportunity to get to know one another better," Derek replied. "For Scott's sake."_

" _Can you help me figure out what's going on with me?" Stiles asked._

_Derek slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you."_

_Stiles grinned. "Alright… but you should know… if we're going to be working together on this, you're going to have to resist the urge to fall in love with me."_

_Derek's eyes raked across Stiles in a way that left the young human feeling vulnerable, intimidated, and slightly insulted. "Trust me… that's not going to be a problem."_

" _What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Stiles asked indignantly._

" _It means you're tired and you need to get some rest," Derek replied dismissively. "Good night."_

* * *

"You understand that if I authorize this, you're forfeiting his bed in the hospital and there's no guarantee that we'll be able to re-admit him, right?" the social worker asked John.

"He's not getting any better here… he might as well be somewhere comfortable," John replied.

"We can find him room in a palliative care facility," she suggested.

"No!" Derek interjected. "We're not giving up on him!"

"Mr. Hale, palliative care doesn't constitute 'giving up.' It's just a matter of treating symptoms to provide a higher quality of life," she said.

"I know what palliative care means." Derek's voice held an icy coldness that took even John by surprise. "It's not fucking happening. He's suffering from dementia. He's not on his death bed."

"With all due respect, Mr. Hale, it's Sheriff Stilinski's call," the social worker said.

"With all due respect, ma'am," John replied. "I was there on the day they exchanged rings and vows. He has just as much say, if not more than I do."

"And I've told you before," the social worker replied. "There was nothing about that ceremony that was legally binding. My hands are tied, unfortunately. The authorization has to come from you, Sheriff."

"And I've already authorized it. I just need you to put the paperwork through," John said. The social worker nodded and began typing feverishly.

A few hours later, Stiles was leaning against Derek's chest in the back seat of John's car. A blissful smile parted his lips. "Home?" Stiles asked as they pulled into the driveway.

"Yeah, we're home," Derek replied. "Happy birthday, Stiles."

"M-my birthday isn't for a few days," he pointed out.

"I know," Derek said. "But I know you hate hospitals and you really wanted this."

"I love you, Derek," he said.

Derek could tell that Stiles' stutter was already getting better. He knew he'd made the right decision.

Stiles was playing absentmindedly with the silver ring on Derek's finger. "Why don't I have mine anymore?" he asked.

"You needed too many MRI scans," Derek replied. "So you gave it to me to keep safe."

"Is it s-safe?" Stiles asked.

"I haven't taken it off since the moment you gave it to me," Derek replied, pulling his hand out of Stiles' so he could unfasten the necklace he kept beneath his shirt. A small silver ring dangled from a small chain. He let the ring fall into his palm before sliding it back onto Stiles' finger for the first time in six months. "I always thought it looked so much better on you."

* * *

_The loud screaming jolted Derek from his sleep. Stiles was flailing around. Immediately Derek was at his side, restraining him, afraid he'd hurt himself somehow. "Stiles you're alright… calm down," he said as Stiles fought against him, still trying to catch his bearings._

_When he finally stopped, he looked up at Derek, tears streaming his face. "What happened?"_

_Derek shrugged, slowly letting Stiles go. "You were asleep… then you started screaming worse than a fucking banshee… which is saying something, considering we both know one."_

" _But I was here the entire time?" Stiles asked._

" _If you'd have left, I would have known," Derek replied, sitting next to him. "Do you need some water or something?"_

" _Or something," Stiles muttered. "Do you have anything stronger?"_

" _A whole cabinet full," Derek said. "But you're too young."_

" _Really? You choose now to draw a strong moral line about what you will and will not let teenagers do?" Stiles replied._

" _And what's that supposed to mean?"_

" _Where was this morality when you went around turning every wayward problem child in Beacon Hills," he said._

_Derek's nostrils flared. He reached out grabbing Stiles' arm, bringing it close to his mouth. "Are you saying you want me to cure your nightmares by making you into the thing that gives kids nightmares?"_

_His heart raced as he imagined Derek's teeth piercing his skin, biting him… turning him… "No," he said softly._

" _I've made bad decisions," Derek said. "But I gave each of them a choice. They knew the risks. You know the risks. So don't joke about something like that."_

" _I'm sorry," Stiles replied. He didn't know why he even said it in the first place. He didn't really think that about Derek, but it just came out. He stood there, hoping Derek would accept his apology, though he knew he didn't deserve Derek's forgiveness._

" _You fucking should be," Derek growled, dropping Stiles arm and walking away from him, leaving Stiles to curl back up on the couch and cry himself back to sleep._

* * *

Derek held Stiles in his arms, carrying him into the house. "I never really got to do this when we had our ceremony," he chuckled.

Stiles smiled weakly up at him. "You will b-be able to sleep beside me tonight w-without the n-nurses you wake up," he said. Immediately the smile faded as he realized that the end of the sentence came out wrong.

Derek could smell the tears that were beginning to form. As he gingerly laid Stiles in his bed, he leaned down and kissed him. "You don't have to get frustrated. I know what you mean. I'll always know what you mean."

"D-don't make promises you can't k-keep," Stiles warned.

"I never do," Derek replied, wiping the tear from the corner of Stiles' eyes.

"I'm really t-tired," Stiles mumbled. "Can we w-walk tomorrow?"

Derek nodded. "We can walk as far and as long as you want."

Stiles gave a weak attempt at a grin before rolling onto his side. Derek watched him sleep for a bit before he heard John appear in the doorway. "When he was first born, I watched him sleep every night," he said. "He was always such a hyperactive little shit. He never stopped moving even when he was dead to the world. And now… I feel like I'm watching someone else's kid… he's always so still now."

Derek got up and turned to John, whose expression was unreadable. "We're doing the right thing…" He hoped he said it with enough conviction to convince John that he was sure they had.

"Can you tell me something… man to man?" John asked. After Derek gave a gentle nod, John took a deep breath. "Every time he woke up unclear of who you are, you didn't say 'husband'. Do you regret exchanging vows?"

Though he was taken aback by the question, Derek shook his head. "I'll never regret that. It's just… whenever he woke up like that, there was a chance that he would reject anything I told him. Boyfriend is a softer truth than husband. But every time I said it, it killed me."

"And why didn't you marry him… for real?" John asked.

He didn't understand why John was asking, but the two of them needed to keep communication open if they were going to now live under the same roof in their attempts to help Stiles. "Because my kind… werewolves have different rules we live by. Betas can pretty much do what they want so long as the Alpha agrees. But an Alpha is supposed to take another werewolf as their Mate. If I were to legally marry him, there would be other Alphas who would expect me to turn him."

"And he doesn't want to be turned," John said softly.

"There are those who would understand our situation… there are those who would think me cruel, or even stupid, for not just doing it," Derek replied. "And then there are those who would do what it took to force my hand… who have an idea of werewolf purity. He is already in so much danger from the things going on inside his mind."

"Are you hungry?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Come downstairs. I'll cook us something," the sheriff replied.

Silence passed between them as John cooked, and even as they ate. Both of them nursed a beer before John finally broke the quiet. "You've been so good with him. And you've kept your promise to keep him human. But I'm telling you right now… you need to break it."

"I won't do that, John. I'm sorry," Derek replied. "I won't betray him like that."

"Fine," John said. His voice was low and calm. "But when he dies from this… from  _your_  inaction, I will make sure that when I bury my son—the only thing I have left that I truly care about—that I will have already put his murderer in the ground." He stood up from the table and threw his plate across the room, sending it shattering against the wall.

"Don't do this, John," Derek begged. "The bite has consequences. There's no guarantee you survive it… believe me I learned that lesson the hard way. He's so weak…"

"HE'S MY SON!" John roared. "He's all I have. You can save his life! If you don't, that's murder. And while it would be great retribution to let you live the rest of your life knowing what you did to him, I won't be able to sleep at night knowing that you got to live when he didn't."

"Biting Stiles doesn't bring back your wife!" Derek yelled back, getting to his feet.

"It saves the last bit of her left alive," John replied. "When I look at him, I see her. I always have… and now more than ever. You don't know how this ends. I do and it is proof that there is no God that I have to watch him go through it knowing that he doesn't have to… and the person who swore before me and God to love and protect him…"

"I  _am_  protecting him, John!" Derek said. "And I'm starting to think I might need to protect him from you."

"Are you threatening me?" John asked, stepping close to Derek who refused to back down.

"Believe me," Derek replied, staring into the Sheriff's eyes. "If I think I need to step in to protect him… I won't need to threaten you. Werewolves don't play baseball. You don't get three strikes."

John didn't even blink. Neither of them said a word. Both knew they had reached an impasse. It was just a matter of whose will would win out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So there's the second chapter! I hope it wasn't as traumatizing as the first... but the next one will likely be pretty sad. Let me know what you think! That includes theories! Feel free to follow/message me on Tumblr (forevermyalpha.tumblr.com) and Twitter (@orioniswatching). I love reader feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

_Stiles was averaging six hours of sleep per week. On the off chance he was able to sleep, it wasn't restful and it was haunted by nightmares that sent his father running to his room. There were times he didn't know whether or not he was dreaming. There were times when he would simply be somewhere he had no recollection of going to._

_As he woke up, surrounded by leaves and trees, he pulled his limbs close to himself. He was cold. It was unspeakably cold outside. All he was wearing was a loose-fitting tee-shirt and some pajama pants. His cell phone was in his hand, but there wasn't much battery life left. He wasn't sure who to call. Should he call Scott and Derek who could track him by scent? Should he call his father, who would likely set the entire police force of Beacon Hills to the task of finding him? Should he try to find his way home on his own?_

_And the more important question faced him… was any of this actually real? Would he wake up to find himself in his bed at home?_

_He scrolled through his contacts and his fingers hit the first one he came to that might provide help._

" _Hello?" the voice came on the other side._

* * *

Derek scarcely moved from Stiles' side. He wasn't sure he could trust Stiles to be alone with John. He feared that if he left Stiles for too long, John might have a different Alpha come in to change him.

Stiles quickly picked up on the tension mounting between his father and his love. "Stop f-fighting," he said one day as Derek wheeled him down the street.

"We're not fighting," Derek replied. "You have to speak to someone to fight with them."

"You know wh-what I mean!"

Derek knelt beside Stiles. "Your father loves you. He's trying to find a way to save your life. But you've told me and Scott that you don't want the Bite. And I don't want you to die either. Especially since I know that there's a strong possibility the Bite will save your life."

"No," Stiles replied forcefully. "I don't w-want it."

Derek worked hard to suppress the tears that were forming in his eyes. He hoped and he truly prayed that Stiles would change his mind. He nodded. "Then I'll respect your decision… but Stiles… I need to know why."

"I c-can't tell you yet," Stiles replied.

Shaking his head, Derek whimpered, "That's not good enough. I've stood by you… and I've trusted you implicitly for three years… and I've been defending your decision to your father… but I need to know why. Help me understand so I know why I'm making an enemy out of your father… why won't you take the Bite?"

Stiles looked down, his eyes searching Derek's. It hurt him to see his husband in so much pain, but he couldn't tell Derek his reasoning just yet. "I w-will tell you," Stiles promised. "Eventually." Derek gripped Stiles' sweatpants and silently cried into his lap. Stiles stroked his hair in an attempt to soothe him. It unnerved him to see Derek like this. He was always so calm and collected. He was the pillar on which Stiles knew he could lean, and so often had these past few years. "D-don't cry, Derek…" Stiles begged. "Please…"

Derek wiped his eyes and stood up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just had a moment of weakness."

"Not weak-weakness," Stiles corrected. "Strength."

* * *

" _I don't know where I am," Stiles whimpered. "I'm scared, Derek…"_

_Derek froze. His mind began to race. "Look around you," he said., feigning complete calmness. "Tell me what you see."_

" _It's too dark," Stiles replied. His voice was weak and full of terror. "I can't see anything… I know I'm in the woods… but that's it… I think I hear coyotes, Derek… please…" Derek's heart was breaking as he heard his friend speak. He could hear Stiles' teeth chattering in the cold. "I don't want to die…"_

" _You won't," Derek vowed. "I'll find you. But I need to call for some help. To do that, I need to hang up with you. I'll call you back as soon as I can, alright?"_

" _No, Derek!" Stiles yelped. "Please don't hang up on me!"_

" _It will be just a few moments, I promise, Stiles! I just need to call Scott then I'll call you right back." He quickly disconnected, knowing that another plea from Stiles would shake his resolve. Stiles was the first person to treat him as a human… as an equal since Laura died. Stiles was his best friend. His only friend, really. He quickly tapped Scott's number and held the phone to his ear again. "Stiles is missing, I think he's somewhere in the Preserve. Get the Sheriff and meet me there. I don't think he'll last long."_

_He hung up and immediately dialed Stiles back. "Derek?"_

" _See, I told you it'd only be a few moments," Derek replied as he pulled on his jacket and ran out the door to his loft, not even bothering to lock it. He hopped in his car and sped out of the garage, not even touching the brake until he was pulling up to the sign that said "Beacon Hills Preserve." He didn't have time to wait for Scott. He was too busy trying to keep Stiles calm. "Cover your feet with leaves. It'll help protect them from frostbite… and try to keep your fingers in your armpits, it'll keep them warm. I'm coming, Stiles… I swear."_

_He could hear Stiles' teeth chattering. "My phone is going to die…"_

" _It's alright," Derek assured him. "I'm in the preserve… and I've got your scent."_

_He began to run as the line went dead, following the scent. His ears could pick up the sounds of the night for miles. He could hear the Sheriff and Scott pulling up, already a league behind him. He stopped, sniffing the air. Stiles' scent was much stronger. He had to be within earshot. "STILES!" Derek called out. "CAN YOU HEAR ME?"_

" _Over here!" came the weak voice in reply. Derek's head shot in the direction of the cry. His eyes glowed bright red, allowing him to see more easily in the pitch black of the wood. He rushed to the young human, throwing off his thick, warm jacket and wrapping Stiles' shivering torso into it and picking him up._

" _I've got you now. You'll be fine," Derek assured him, carrying him back to the cars so that he could be taken to the hospital._

* * *

Everyone gathered around Stiles' bed. A folded blanket helped keep his legs warm as a mountain of beautifully wrapped presents surrounded him.

Scott bought a chair that would allow him to descend the stairs without having to be carried. Danny designed a lacrosse version of the Madden video game. Allison got his baseball bat autographed by his favorite Major League player. When all but one had been opened, Derek sat on the bed. The wrapping was elegant, as was the handwriting on the card. Stiles became teary-eyed as he read it.

Carefully, he removed the wrapping, revealing a beautiful hand-made picture frame containing a collage of photos, most of them were of him and Derek performing items on his list. Several of them were just Derek. The teary eyes became full-blown sobs as Stiles realized he didn't remember doing any of these things with Derek. But as his eyes studied each one, he realized that most of his list had been accomplished. He looked up from the frame to see that all of his friends were crying too. "I'm sorry, you guys… this is probably the most depressing birthday party you've ever been to," Stiles said wiping his eyes. A chorus of "It's fine" echoed in the room. Stiles then leaned forward, wanting Derek to kiss him. The Alpha leaned forward, granting that wish.

Danny leaned over toward Lydia. "I thought that was his cousin, Miguel…"

Lydia turned her head, narrowing her eyes. "Why do you think we've been calling him 'Derek' this whole time?"

"I thought it was a nickname or something…" Danny admitted. "So just so we're clear… Stiles isn't in an incestuous relationship with his cousin?"

Scott joined in with Lydia in giving Danny a dumb-founded look.

* * *

_The machine made bizarre whirring and banging noises as Stiles worked very hard to remain still. He didn't mind being in a tight space, but the act of having to stay so perfectly still made him feel as though he was suffocating. Occasionally, a man's voice would tell him to do something. Usually, it was identifying a series of colors or shapes. The panicked feeling only went away when the voice announced, "Alright Mr. Stilinski, the test is over." The table slid out of the machine and Stiles stood up. His father met him in the room. The look on his face told Stiles everything he needed to know. He could feel the tears beginning to well in his eyes._

" _There are still a few more tests we can perform. I'd like to get some blood work done and do a genetic test," the doctor added. Stiles appreciated his attempt at comforting them and consented to the extra testing, though he knew they'd likely all yield the same result. He had inherited Frontotemporal Dementia from his mom._

" _The MRI just showed beginning stages, Stiles," John told him. "There are still things we can do to help slow it down. We caught it early."_

" _I'm scared, dad," Stiles said. He couldn't even look at his father. He just stared straight ahead, feeling completely numb. There were so many things he wouldn't get to accomplish. His list became even more imperative, but he still had to get through his last two years of high school before he could complete most of it… and who even knew if he'd graduate before the symptoms became too bad._

_He decided, however, not to tell anyone… not yet. He swore his father to secrecy. Not even Scott and Melissa could know._

_As he waited on the blood and genetics tests to come back, he spent more time with Derek. He spent most of his time with Derek, actually. Scott was beginning to get suspicious of the amount of time he spent in Derek's loft._

_Derek was really smart, Stiles discovered. He attended NYU when he was in New York with Laura. He had degrees in Linguistics and Biology. He hated Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and loved the way Ernest Hemingway's prose flowed. He was good at math. "It's a bunch of symbols we assign arbitrary definitions to and rearrange to create new meaning… it's a language," he explained to an open-jawed Stiles._

" _I'm gonna start calling you Wonder Wolf," Stiles said, in complete awe of Derek's intellect._

" _Not if you value your life you won't," Derek replied._

" _I wish high school interested me more than it does… maybe if I got better grades I might have a shot with Lydia," he surmised. As it stood, he had no hope of ever getting with Lydia or anyone else, for that matter._ _"Oh my god," he said as the reality of it hit him. "I'm going to die as a virgin..."_

 _"_ _Stiles... you're only 17. You have plenty of time..." Derek replied._ _"_

_But what if I don't, Derek?" Stiles replied. "Things happen... I could walk out of this loft and get struck by a car and my headstone is going to say 'Here lies Stiles... He died as he lived... a total virgin!'"_

_Derek summoned his courage, unsure if this was necessarily the right time to make a move. "What if you didn't?"_

_Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah... cut to the line of people clamoring to get me into bed. I'm not Scott... I can't just tilt my head and show off a crooked jaw that makes the ladies swoon!"_

_Derek slowly approached, allowing his thumb to trace Stiles' incredibly un-crooked jaw. "You don't have to," he said. "You spend your time comparing yourself to him... but do you ever stop and think that you could just be you and perfectly acceptable?"_

_Stiles' eyes searched Derek's. He stepped backwards. "Stop making fun of me," he said. "I don't need sassy werewolf right now, Derek... I need a friend. And for someone to think highly enough of me to want to have sex with me! For Christ's sake, I've never even been kissed!"_

_Again, Derek closed the distance between them. He pressed his lips to Stiles' and hoped that he hadn't stepped over a line. To his relief, Stiles melted into it and Derek felt his lips part slightly. He took it as invitation to deepen the kiss, tasting Stiles for the first time. He tasted just like Derek imagined he would. When he finally pulled away, he waited for a reaction. Stiles simply smiled, much to his relief. "How was that for a first kiss?" Derek asked._

" _Not bad," Stiles replied. "Though I never imagined that my first kiss would come from a grumpy werewolf friend…"_

_Derek smiled and let his lips brush Stiles' again. "How about a grumpy werewolf boyfriend?"_

_Stiles grinned and stole one more kiss. "I think I'd be okay with that."_

* * *

The warm water soothed Stiles' muscles as he leaned against Derek's chest. The thing he loved most about being home again was that he got to bathe with Derek. It was intimate and beautiful even if it wasn't sexual. Stiles really just relished the sensation of Derek's powerful arms around him, and the skin-to-skin contact that made him feel like a person… not a patient.

Derek rubbed the silky body wash along the contours of his husband's skin, nibbling on his ears as Stiles let out little giggles that made Derek's heart soar. He remembered the last time he heard Stiles laugh. It was years ago. He was glad he moved Stiles home. He was doing so much better. His muscle control had improved and the tremors in his arms were only slight. His ability to talk was also much better with only a mild stutter when he got excited.

And although he'd never voice it, the fear was there in the back of his mind that this was merely a surge… one last hurrah before Stiles descended past the point of no return and beyond his reach forever.

And as he rinsed the soap off of Stiles' pale skin, he saw Stiles gazing up at him, seemingly awestruck. "What?" he asked.

"I missed this," Stiles replied. "I missed you holding me."

"I held you every night you were in the hospital," Derek replied. "You just didn't always know it."

"It's easier to be a couple here," Stiles pointed out.

"It's a little awkward," Derek admitted. "Your dad is downstairs and he's not my biggest fan right now…"

"When he finally understands why, he'll for-forgive you," Stiles said. "He was always in your corner."

* * *

 _The liquor cabinet was getting more barren. Stiles was positive that his dad was drinking again. It wasn't like he blamed him, though. Both the blood tests and the genetic test came back proving he really_ did _inherit the disease from his mother. He just wished that his dad would hold it together until he was too far gone to see or understand what was happening. Stiles knew it would be harder to fight if he saw his father giving up so early._

_His phone vibrated. It was his dad, texting him to say he would be home soon. Stiles smiled because he was just putting the finishing touches on his mom's recipe for pierogi, his father's favorite comfort food. He knew the recipe by heart, having watched his mom make it often when he was young. When John walked through the door, the aroma greeted him and instantly, the stress of the day had vanished._

_They ate in relative silence, though John did speak up to compliment his son on a job well done. "Do you have any plans this weekend?" he asked as they washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen together._

" _I was going to hang out with Derek," Stiles replied._

_John sat the cleaning rag down. "It's not right what you're doing to that boy, Stiles," he said in the tone Stiles recognized as his stern father voice. "You need to end it before anyone gets hurt."_

_Stiles nodded, absent-mindedly running the sponge across the countertop. "I love him, Dad…"_

" _I understand," John replied. "And that's why you should set him free. He deserves at least that, don't you think?"_

" _He deserves everything," Stiles replied. "I've never felt this way about anyone before… and I love the way he makes me feel. I don't want that to end… That's selfish though, isn't it?"_

_John dropped the rag into the sink and pulled his son close. He was anticipating the first break-down. His son was always so strong, but what was happening to him wasn't fair and he deserved to be angry and frustrated by the situation. Stiles cried into his dad's chest, finally allowing himself to feel the emotions he'd been keeping at bay since the doctor gave them the test results._

_John stood there, holding his son in the same place he held his wife when the reality of it all hit her for the first time. He choked back his own tears. This wasn't his turn to be emotional. He needed to be strong so his son could have his moment of vulnerability._

_Stiles decided to do it the next day. It was only fair. He skipped school, telling Derek to meet him. The phone vibrated in his hand. Derek's name and picture popped up on the screen. He answered it. "I'm here… where are you," Derek's voice came over the line._

" _I'm in my jeep. Look to your left," Stiles replied. He was parked far away, tucked behind a thicket of shrubs that hid him well._

_Derek hung up and walked over as Stiles prepared himself to do it. Within moments, Derek was at the passenger door. Reaching over, Stiles opened his door and stepped gingerly out of the jeep, but left the door open in case he needed a fast get-away. "So what did the doctors say?" Derek asked._

" _That's not why I wanted to talk to you," Stiles replied. His voice was low. It was taking every ounce of strength he had to keep it strong and forceful. He willed his eyes to go anywhere but Derek because if he saw the hurt on Derek's face, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it and he knew that was selfish. "I can't do this," he said finally after several minutes of silence passed between them._

" _What do you mean?" Derek asked._

" _I mean I can't do this… us… be your boyfriend. I thought I could, but I can't. So I've got to end it," Stiles said. He could feel the tears threatening to spill from his eyes as a lump formed in his throat._

_Derek was dumbfounded. "Did I do something wrong?"_

_Stiles shook his head. "No. I just… making it work with you is going to be tough… and I don't want to put that much effort into it. I'm giving up on us before things get too involved."_

" _But why?" Derek demanded. He sniffled slightly, making the first indication to Stiles that he was crying. Stiles' resolve was weakening._

_His method wasn't working, so he tried to be harsh. "Because I just don't want to be with you, Derek! Jesus Christ! Are you so masochistic that you're going to stand here and prolong a breakup! We've only been dating for a little while… I'm seventeen… you're 24! Grow the fuck up and act like it!"_

" _Fine," Derek said. In his peripheral vision, Stiles saw him shift slightly on his feet. "Tell me you don't love me and I'll get back in my car and we can pretend we never even met."_

_Stiles finally allowed himself to look at the man standing across from him. "I…" he began. He couldn't do it._

" _Come on…" Derek goaded. "You brought me all the way out here to dump me, so at least be man enough to look me in the eyes and let me go. Say something! Tell me you don't love me!"_

" _You'll know I'm fucking lying!" Stiles yelled back, the tears flowing steadily out of his eyes. "I'm giving up on you because I love you, Derek. This is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. You're perfect… Your smart, you're kind, you love me even though I'm just a scrawny little spaz… and the only solace I get from this is knowing that one day I won't remember what it felt like to love you… and I'll forget how much it hurt to let you go."_

" _So it_ _ **is**_ _what your mom had," Derek whispered._

_Stiles nodded._

" _Why would I abandon you during this?" Derek asked, moving around the jeep to wrap Stiles tightly in his arms._

" _It isn't abandonment if I push you away, Derek," Stiles replied, snaking out of his grasp. "I can't ask you to go through this with me. I can't ask you to watch as I slowly lose any ability to function normally… when I forget you… my dad… Scott… and everyone I love." He shook his head as he sobbed. "You don't deserve that. I won't ask you to go through that."_

" _Then don't," Derek said softly.. "But don't ask me to walk away from you just because this might end up being painful."_

" _Derek… I'm going to die from this!" Stiles shouted back. "It could be months… it could be years. We don't know… but this is going to kill me. Let me die knowing I was able to at least do right by you…"_

" _We all die, Stiles. Every single one of us," Derek said softly. "Which is why we should hold on to the good things we have while we have them."_

" _You don't know what it's like to watch someone go through this," Stiles said. "My mom didn't even know who I was the last few months of her life. She was afraid of my dad. There is going to come a day when I look into your eyes and I see a complete stranger… and when that happens…"_

" _I'll remind you who I am," Derek replied, pulling him close again._

" _And when I don't even know who I am?"_

" _I'll remind you of that too… you're the scrawny little spaz I fell in love with," Derek replied. "And then we'll go from there."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of this chapter. What is Stiles' reason for not wanting the Bite? You'll find out soon. Also, sorry it took so long... I went through a little bit of writer's block from graduation... but now I'm back... and I'll be updating more frequently!


	4. Chapter 4

" _So when is he going to come over for dinner?" John asked as Stiles shoveled whole spoon-fuls of cereal into his mouth. "Have you two even had sex?"_

_Cereal blasted out of Stiles mouth, littering the table and floor around him. "Dad! Come on!"_

_John smirked as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. "Well, have you?"_

" _No!" Stiles replied emphatically. "No we haven't!"_

" _Why not?"_

_Stiles froze. "You're alright with us having sex?"_

_John's smirk erupted into a full laugh. "Of course I am… You're a hormonal boy… Derek's a hormonal boy… man… How old is he?"_

" _Older than he looks…"_

" _But my point is…I know what it's like to be your age. I had sex!" Gesturing at his son with his hand, John added, "Obviously."_

_Stiles glanced over at the stove. "Oh look… I've gotta go. This chat was great, Dad… let's never talk about this again?"_

_John moved to block Stiles' path. "Son, I'm serious. I'll be working the night shift this weekend. If you want, Derek can come over and stay the night. And you two can… you know… do it."_

_Stiles turned a shade of crimson John had never before seen as he brushed past him and out the door, quickly starting his Jeep and driving off. But as he drove the familiar path to that prison they called an educational institution, Stiles decided he would text Derek as soon as he got there._

_It turned out that he didn't need to text Derek because as he pulled into the spot, Derek's Camaro was already sitting there, the sexy werewolf leaning against it. As Stiles got out of his car, he grinned. "You know you graduated from here already, don't you?"_

_Derek chuckled. "I missed you… I wanted to get to see you before school stole you for the day."_

_Resting his hands on Derek's strong chest, Stiles kissed his boyfriend's cheek. "You're gonna lose werewolf street cred if you keep talking like that."_

" _Don't worry about me," Derek said. "I'm the Alpha, remember?"_

_Stiles felt knots turning in his stomach at the sensation of Derek's arms around him. He'd only ever felt this way before around Lydia. "So my dad is going to be working the night shift this weekend… he said you could come over and stay the night…"_

" _Alright… I'll be over around 7:00 on Friday," Derek said. "Now you need to get to class. If your grades slip, your dad might revoke my overnight privileges."_

" _Good looking, smart, and you're concerned about my education… I think you just hit the trifecta of what my dad wants in my romantic partner…" Stiles chuckled, letting his lips graze Derek's scruffy cheek, sending shivers of anticipation through his body again. He wasn't sure how he was going to wait until Friday night, even though it was only two days away._

_They were the slowest two days Stiles had ever had the displeasure of enduring. However when Derek showed up at his house, promptly at 7:00, the knots and butterflies in Stiles' stomach seemed to multiply with each passing second. He was somewhat of a one-hit wonder when it came to cooking, so his Pierogi dish was ready for them to eat._

_This, of course, wasn't the first time Derek had ever been to Stiles' house. It was, however, the first time he'd been there as Stiles' boyfriend. He could tell Stiles was anxious as he closed the door behind them and motioned to the kitchen. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand and pulled him close. "You don't need to be nervous, Stiles. We aren't going to do anything you're not ready to do."_

" _I know," Stiles replied. "It's just… you're my first… well… anything. I'm just kind of… I don't know."_

_Seeing Stiles so flustered was endearing. Derek smiled and kissed him. "Then we'll take it all very slowly," he said as their lips parted. "But let's start with dinner. It smells great."_

" _Thanks," Stiles said from behind a sheepish smile. He was always so full of words and ready to ramble on about anything, but Derek's kisses had a way of rendering him completely speechless._

_They ate together and Derek helped him clean up the kitchen before they headed up to Stiles' bedroom. Stiles awkwardly sat next to Derek. His lips found their way to Derek's neck, his hands unsure where to go. Derek's palm snaked its way up Stiles' abdomen, slowly pushing him back as he climbed up and straddled his young human lover._

_Stiles' pulse thundered loudly in Derek's ears as they continued. Stiles started pulling up on Derek's shirt, signaling he wanted to go further so Derek paused the kisses to help get them both out of their shirts._

_Stiles suddenly felt self-conscious as he saw the large muscular frame of his boyfriend glistening in the light coming from his lamp. He could see every muscle beneath Derek's skin. He giggled as Derek's scruff tickled his neck as Derek moved along his jawline and down to his shoulder with his kisses._

_And though he was a powerful Alpha, even he needed to obey Nature's call. He climbed off Stiles and quickly excused himself to the bathroom._

_Stiles realized where this was headed when Derek came back. And while he was enthralled by the idea of losing his virginity to Derek, he was also terrified. He had no idea what he was doing and was scared Derek would lose interest in him for his lack of experience._

_As Derek rounded the corner into the room, he saw that Stiles was completely under the covers, protected by a pillow fort. He smiled and climbed back into the bed. Stiles heart began pounding again. "Stiles?"_

" _Yeah," came the muffled voice from beneath the covers._

" _Are you alright?"_

" _Not really," he replied._

" _Do you want to talk about it?"_

" _I'm scared," Stiles said, pushing the covers down. "I've never done this before… and I don't really know what to do. What if I make a mistake or something?"_

" _Remember what I said," Derek replied. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."_

" _What if I'm not comfortable doing… that… for a while?"_

" _Then we won't have sex for a while," Derek said simply. "I want this to be as good for you as it is for me."_

" _This is good for you?" Stiles seemed almost perplexed by that thought. "Half the time I'm just copying you..."_

" _Then I must be really good at this," Derek teased._

" _You are," Stiles replied. "But keep in mind… I don't have anyone to compare this to._ _So you won't hate me if we just cuddle tonight instead?"_

" _Of course not," Derek replied, moving the pillows that acted as a barrier between them. Stiles climbed on top of the covers and scooted closer to Derek. He tensed as he felt Derek's large erection against his back. "Sorry…" Derek muttered. "It will go away eventually…"_

* * *

It had been a while since had actually enjoyed a shower. Normally, he was quickly washing in an effort to get right back to Stiles' side. Today, he was quickly washing because Stiles was waiting on him. They were going to the movies. Stiles first suggested the zoo, but after Derek pointed out that most animals went berserk in his presence, they decided that perhaps they should do something else.

But as he pulled on his clothes, he realized something was wrong. He could hear car horns and crying. Stiles was crying. He bolted out the door to find Stiles in the middle of the road, cars speeding past him, trying not to hit him. He looked scared and he was one inattentive driver away from being struck and killed. Running out into the road, Derek's entire focus was on saving Stiles. He was so focused on that task that he was nearly struck, himself. However, he was easily able to scoop up Stiles' thin frame and bring him back to the porch as the frail human struggled the entire time, insisting that Derek let him go.

Battering his fist against Derek's strong chest, Stiles was outraged. "I don't need saving!" he yelled. "I just want my mom!"

"Stiles…" Derek breathed, setting him down on his feet.

"How d-do you know my name? What were you doing in my h-house?" The barrage of questions seemed unending. This wasn't the first time Derek had dealt with a wild, angry, and confused Stiles. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any easier.

"Just calm down," Derek urged. He felt the agonizing daggers of despair in his chest as he continued trying to help Stiles come to clarity. "I'm your boyfriend. I live with you and your dad."

"And what about my m-mom? Where is she! I need to t-talk to her…"

Derek drew an uneasy breath. He hated reminding Stiles of this. "She died, Stiles… when you were young."

Stiles shook his head, his nostrils flaring in indignant denial. "No. You're lying. G-get out of my way! I'm calling the po—the police."

"Stiles, please..."

"No!" he repeated. "My m-mom isn't d-dead! You're a fucking liar!"

It was as if someone had reached into Derek's gut and twisted its contents. Stiles had often not known who he was in the past… but never before had he so vehemently fought against the truth. "I'm only trying to help you."

"No, you aren't!" Stiles shot back. "If you d-don't leave n-now, I will call the police and we will press ch-charges."

Derek put his hands up and backed up off the porch, waiting until he was out of Stiles' line of sight to grab his phone and call John to explain what happened.

* * *

 _As he continued to throw the ball into the air and catch it, he rambled on trying to make sense of what was happening and hoping for Scott to give input, considering that of the two of them, he was the only one no longer carrying his V-Card. "I mean… I know_ how _it happens… as far as the logistics go, but I never imagined I'd be in this position."_

" _All the times you got angry that Danny wasn't hitting on you and you seriously expect me to believe you've never once put thought into carrying on a relationship with another guy?" Scott replied, skepticism dripping from every word._

" _Yeah! I thought I'd lose my virginity to a girl," Stiles admitted. "Namely… her best friend…" He nodded over to Allison who looked shocked._

" _You mean Lydia?"_

" _He's been in love with her for as long as I've known him," Scott explained._

" _Well first of all," Allison said. "Virginity isn't something you just lose… And I don't know what you're so afraid of. Derek seems to really like you."_

_Stiles didn't respond. He only stared straight ahead. When he finally did break the silence between the three, he merely said, "I'm gonna go home. I've got to do some research…"_

_Once he was in the safety of his room, he locked the door and turned on the computer. There was only one way, he surmised, to research what gay sex might be like… and that was to watch it. It didn't take long for him to find a gay porn site. He quickly grabbed a notebook and began jotting down his observations. He studied each frame with a scrupulous scientific eye. He noticed trends. The smaller, younger guy tended to be the penetrated partner. There was a whole litany of vocabulary he'd never heard of. He discovered that he would be considered a 'twink' and that Derek, much to his amusement, would be considered a 'wolf'._

_He began to study body language. The bottoms seemed to express only two emotions: bliss and agony, while the tops seemed to love just about every part of the act._

_Then came videos on blowjobs. They seemed easy enough. Years of taking Ritalin and Adderall and the impatience to actually chew his food the way he should had made sure Stiles' gag reflex was virtually nonexistent. He wasn't worried about that. The thing that worried him most was the fact that Derek sometimes had fangs… and in his human form, he had adorable little bunny teeth that on any other occasion were endearing, but Stiles feared how they might feel accidentally hitting his sensitive skin down there._

_He also noticed that gay men would lick each other in places that didn't seem too pleasant to lick, though it looked like the act was rather enjoyable, Stiles decided he'd consider it only if Derek brought it up. He wondered if Derek even would, considering how closely it resembled certain canine greetings._

_Continuing to watch the videos, he picked up his phone, dialing his best friend. Scott's werewolf hearing only amplified the noise in the background. "Stiles… are you watching porn?"_

" _Yeah," he replied. "Gay porn. I'm trying to figure out what to do when me and Derek finally… you know… do the do…"_

" _Then why are you calling me?"_

" _Because I think I have the basics down but I need to know… are there any werewolf things I should know about? I just don't want to be prepared for one thing only to find out that werewolves do completely different things… you know?" Stiles rambled._

_Scott squeezed his eyes shut, wondering how his friendship had reached such an unhealthy level. "No, Stiles… to my knowledge, we're pretty much the same… down there. The only difference is that we tend to want it more often… and we like to go a little more rough…"_

" _What do you mean 'more rough'?" Stiles demanded, panic filling his voice._

" _Faster… harder…" Scott clarified. "More animalistic."_

_Stiles gulped. "Do you think I'm a top or a bottom?"_

" _Stiles, I'm not having this conversation with you," Scott said._

" _I'm serious!" he replied._

" _Why don't you talk about this with Derek?"_

_Stiles heard a struggle on the other end before Allison's voice came on the phone. "Stiles, you need to talk to Derek about this stuff. He's the one you're going to be in bed with… He's the one who should answer your questions. If you're not mature enough to talk to your boyfriend about sex… then maybe you shouldn't be doing it."_

_He didn't appreciate the lecture, but her argument was sound. "Fine… I'll ask Derek…"_

" _Ask me what?" Derek asked, climbing through Stiles' window._

" _Jesus Christ!" Stiles exclaimed. "Derek… I'm not sure about werewolf etiquette… but normal people use doors…"_

" _What?" Derek asked sheepishly as Stiles hung up his phone._

" _Stop sneaking into my window!" Stiles scolded. "Use the front door like a normal person. You're a broody Alpha werewolf, not an emo sparkling vampire!"_

" _Did you just make a Twilight reference?"_

" _And you understood it," Stiles replied. "Neither of us have clean hands here…"  
_

_Derek smirked as he approached Stiles, letting his arms snake around the human's slender waist as their lips met. "So what was it you wanted to ask me?"_

* * *

John rushed home the moment Derek called him, but they agreed that Derek should find go somewhere else to be until Stiles snapped out of it. What they didn't agree on was how far away Derek should go. Derek was content hanging out in the woods nearby until he got the word it was safe to come back. John thought he should go back to his loft. The thought of being so far away was troubling because he still didn't trust John not to have Stiles bitten while he was gone.

Unfortunately, he simply had to trust his father-in-law. However he didn't go to his loft. He went to the hollowed-out shell of his childhood home, the Hale mansion. It was once home to an expansive library of everything supernatural. As Alpha, his mother ensured that all members of the Hale family knew of any dangers that might be out there waiting for them. It had been, after all, the job of the Hale pack to protect the town from these dangers. The majority of the library burned in the fire that claimed the lives of his parents, cousins, aunt, and little sister. "So much lost," he whispered.

There were three books that he'd only heard his mother mention a few times. He had reason to believe they never existed at all, though if they did, he was certain that his mother would have kept them somewhere safe and secure. The few items that survived the inferno had been taken to New York when he moved there with Laura, then shipped back when he relocated to Beacon Hills following her death. Unfortunately none of those items held what he so fervently sought.

Stiles had always operated in shades of grey. It was something that endeared him to Derek over the nearly insufferable goodness of Scott, the True Alpha. Stiles had, in the past, made the tough calls that one might find to be less than morally upright. Maybe, Derek reasoned, he should follow in his boyfriend's footsteps in that regard.

As he searched for what could be false walls or hollow spots in the floor that might show where the former Hale Alpha might have hidden these books.

He froze as he caught a scent. "What are you doing, Derek?"

The young Alpha snarled as he saw his uncle enter the room. "It's none of your business!"

"You're not the only one left alive who grew up in this house," Peter reminded him. "It's just as much a part of my birthright as it is yours. It's obvious you're looking for something. But you won't find anything here. I've already taken it."

"You don't know what I'm looking for," Derek argued. He flashed his eyes ominously.

"You're looking for a way to save your human," Peter replied. "You already know how to do it, though."

"I won't bite him," Derek growled.

"Then get Scott to do it for you. Make him do your dirty work. That's the reason I turned him to begin with," Peter said, drawing closer to Derek. "Or I could arrange to have a different Alpha bite him…"

This time Derek didn't just growl or snarl. He shifted, slashing his claws across his uncle's chest. He remembered how well that worked out. "The last time you took it upon yourself to have someone I loved bitten… it killed her."

"Are you still holding onto petty little things like that?" Peter asked, picking himself up from the floor. "Come on, Derek. You really need to learn to let go. And if memory serves…  _you_  were the one who killed Paige. After all… your eyes turned cold, steely blue that night… That is, of course, until you got all hopped up on Alpha juice."

"Why couldn't you have just stayed dead?" Derek growled.

"Because apparently, Hell is being stuck here with you," Peter replied. A sinister smile crept across his face. "But you know… there's another way you could save him. He'd heal up all nicely… and you can keep him weak and helpless, just like he wants."

"He wants to stay human," Derek said.

"Isn't that what I said?"

* * *

_Stiles' fingers traced the swirls of Derek's triskele tattoo. There was much about this experience that the porn videos didn't prepare him for. But they especially didn't prepare him for this. The part where afterwards, when he was lying next to his boyfriend with a million things going through his head. Part of him wanted to just have more sex. It was almost like opening a can of Pringles. Now that he knew what it felt like, he wanted more… he wanted a lot more. But he hated himself for thinking that._

" _I've never heard you be so quiet," Derek said softly. "Especially not after being so loud. Are you alright?"_

" _Yeah," Stiles replied. "I think I'm ok. Was I good?"_

" _You were perfect," Derek replied. He heard Stiles' heart race as he replied. "Are you sure you're alright?"_

" _I don't know," he said, sitting up. He pulled the blankets further up his body. Derek turned onto his side, his hand reaching toward Stiles' knee, hoping to provide comfort. "I'm happy, mostly. I mean… that was great. But I also feel bad…"_

" _Are you in pain?" Derek asked. "Did I hurt you?"_

_Stiles shook his head, caressing Derek's hand, which still rested on his leg. "No. But I'm scared I hurt you…"_

" _You got a little carried away at one point, but I've already healed. I'm a werewolf, remember?"_

" _That's not what I meant," Stiles said, moving to his feet and pacing. "We shared something amazing… and I love that you were my first… but now I can't stop thinking about the fact that I'm going to die from this disease and now we've done this thing…"_

" _We had sex, Stiles," Derek said. "Just… calm down. Sit with me. Let's talk about what's on your mind."_

_Stiles shook his head. "I can't sit down right now… and I really can't sit next to you."_

_It was Derek's turn to feel vulnerable and guilty. "Why not?"_

" _Because I feel like the most horrible… selfish person who has ever walked the face of the earth and I hate myself because I feel like I'm trapping you in something that's only going to hurt you… yet I also hate myself because this was supposed to be something great and amazing and I'm too bogged down with self-loathing to enjoy it… like I should." His gaze finally moved from the floor back to Derek, who smelled the tears rolling down Stiles' cheek before he saw them._

_The Alpha moved off the bed, standing in front of the trembling human. Stiles collapsed into sobs against Derek's chest. Derek simply held him, unsure how else to help._

" _Everything we do as a couple is going to have this fucking disease hanging over it!" he wept._

_Derek moved his hands to Stiles' shoulder, pulling him away, staring him straight in the eyes. "You're not a disease, Stiles. You simply have one. But this? What we did tonight? That was just us. The disease can't take that away from us."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I tried to put in some comedy because otherwise this story is just too depressing. I hope you really enjoyed it, though. Please drop me a line in a comment, on Twitter, or on Tumblr where I'm orioniswatching and "forevermyalpha" respectively! Also... I'm going to be adding chapter names soon. If you have any suggestions for the chapters I've already posted, please let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

The confusion took three days to finally abate. When it did, Stiles was weak and exhausted. John immediately called Derek, who rushed over. He'd gotten the information he needed, even if it wasn't from the source he wanted.

As he stepped into Stiles' room, he saw the weak smile that he returned with tears as he rushed to Stiles' side, climbing into the bed alongside him. "Welcome back," Derek whispered, kissing Stiles' forehead.

"I'm s-sorry I d-d-did that," Stiles replied.

The stutter was back and worse than ever. Derek realized that his fear had been realized. The progress made was just a surge. "It's alright," Derek replied, "I missed you, though."

"I l-love you," Stiles replied. "D-d-d-don't forget that."

"I would never forget you, Stiles," Derek assured him.

He could tell that Stiles was tired and wanted to sleep, so he let him, but made sure to stay next to him the entire night.

* * *

" _I can see that you're thinking about something," Derek said. "I can practically see the wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours."_

_Stiles smiled a half-hearted smile. "I don't want to answer because it's depressing and I'm worried I'm starting to become a bit of a downer."_

_Derek moved closer. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Tell me."_

" _Remember the night of the meteor shower?" Stiles began. Derek nodded. "Well, I mentioned a list… Things I want to accomplish before I die. And I am realizing… I won't get to do any of that."_

" _Who says?" Derek demanded. "You could go a very long time before things get really bad."_

" _But what about the really important ones?" Stiles asked. "What about number 1: getting married in the church my parents were married? Or number 4: Make a medical discovery?"_

" _Well you've already done 42," Derek said._

" _Befriend someone you don't like," Stiles recited._

" _You kind of went somewhat above and beyond on that one," Derek pointed out. "I'm going to make sure that as many items on your list get accomplished as possible."_

_As he noticed the changing leaves, he realized how fully this disease was affecting his outlook on everything. This was usually his favorite time of year. Now he was reminded that the leaves were only beautiful because they were dead and dying. He wondered if that was why Derek was sticking so closely to him. There was no need for long-term commitment. It was like those people who "fall in love with" and marry inmates on Death Row. He instantly felt horrible for even entertaining the thought. "Do you think I'm going to get to graduate?"_

" _Stiles… have you considered that maybe you don't have to die?" Derek asked._

" _Have you not been listening the last several months?" Stiles demanded. "I have frontotemporal dementia! I am going to die."_

_Shaking his head, Derek tried to clarify. "Medical science can't cure certain things… Cancer, AIDS, asthma, epilepsy, dementia…"_

" _Stop reminding me of things I already know. It's depressing enough as it is."_

" _Medical science can't cure these things," Derek repeated. "But the supernatural world can. One bite and I could fix what's wrong with you. Even though it's genetic, your body would constantly heal from the damage it causes. You'll live even longer than you would have without FTD. You've seen what it did to Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica."_

_The weight of what he was saying hit Stiles like a train. "Are you saying you want to give me the Bite?"_

_As Stiles watched him, he noticed that Derek looked scared. "I'm saying that I love you…" He swallowed as he choked back tears. "And I don't want to lose you if there's something I can do to prevent it."_

_For the first time since his diagnosis, it was Stiles' turn to comfort Derek. However, even in the face of what was certainly going to be a slow, dreary death, Stiles was unsure if he wanted what Derek was offering. Certainly, it would ensure he lived a long and productive life. But he knew that the bite of a werewolf came with its dangers. "Let me think about it," he said._

* * *

The smell hung in the room in a way that was nearly suffocating to Derek, but he refused to leave Stiles' side. John couldn't smell it, but Derek didn't expect him to. He refused to name that scent, though. If he named it, it became real and he couldn't take that.

"We should call Scott and Melissa," John managed through tears. Derek only nodded. John couldn't keep his voice calm long enough to conduct a phone call so he merely texted them that they needed to come over as soon as possible.

Tremors shook Stiles' limbs, though he didn't wake up. Derek did his best not to cry.

It didn't take long for Scott and Melissa to show. One look at John and Melissa's eyes began to well up. As Scott entered Stiles' room, he glanced at Derek, he knew. The room smelled like death. Stiles' body was shutting down and they didn't have long.

Melissa checked his vitals. "I'm not sure that he'll last the night here."

"I don't think he'll survive it if we move him. He only got progressively worse in the hospital," John said softly. "We'll let him stay here in his bed. Where he's comfortable."

"We should say our good-byes," Scott said.

They let him go first. John, Melissa, and Derek waited downstairs in silence. In order to respect everyone's privacy, Derek had to focus his hearing on the noises of life going on outside. Nobody out there knew that within these walls, more than one life was ending. Stiles was dying and Derek only hoped that John was serious with his threat. He knew how long a werewolf could live without the interference of Hunters. He couldn't imagine going that long without Stiles in his life.

Scott returned and Melissa went up. Then John. Then it was Derek's turn. He crawled into the bed next to him and cried into his chest. "I love you so much," he whispered. "I can't lose you, Stiles. I really can't. I know I fought for your choice all this time, but I thought I would be strong enough to hold out. I'm not. I just hope you forgive me for this."

* * *

" _You should know I don't like surprises," Stiles grumbled. The blindfold over his eyes made him entirely reliant upon Scott and Derek to get him to wherever they were headed._

" _It's true," Scott agreed. "I once tried to throw him a surprise birthday party and he punched me in the nose."_

" _We're werewolves, Scott. We'll heal if he throws a punch," Derek replied. "Besides… I'm his boyfriend. He's not gonna punch me."_

" _Don't be so sure about that," Stiles growled._

" _I'll just grab your arms and pin you…" Derek said._

" _Don't threaten me with a good time," Stiles warned._

_Scott gagged._

" _We're here," Derek announced. Stiles felt rough hands move him into position before Derek's voice gave him permission to remove the blindfold._

_Derek was standing on one knee, a golden band displayed outstretched to Stiles. As he looked around, he realized that where they were was where it all began. It was where he'd been drinking the night of the meteor shower. He suspected then that he was sick. The first symptoms had begun in the weeks prior to that night. "What is all this?" Stiles asked._

" _It's the first step to number 1," Derek replied. "You can't get married in the same church as your parents unless you're engaged, first."_

" _Derek… I'm not even 17!" Stiles exclaimed._

" _I don't remember asking your age," Derek said. "But I am asking for your hand in marriage. I have your dad's blessing already. All I need is for you to say 'yes'."_

" _But what if I don't live to see 18?" Stiles asked._

_Derek shrugged. "That isn't an excuse. I love you, Stiles. And I want to spend the rest of your life with you."_

_Stiles knew that Derek didn't mean anything by it, but it still stung to hear that. Yet, he smiled as he said "Yes, I'll marry you. Assuming I live long enough."_

_Derek slipped the ring onto Stiles' finger. "You're not allowed to die," he said. "With this ring, I forbid you to die."_

" _I'm not sure it works that way," Stiles said, pulling Derek to his feet so they could kiss._

* * *

Scott did his best to give Derek and Stiles their privacy. He concentrated on his mom's heartbeat as he rested his head on her shoulder. He couldn't believe his best friend was upstairs dying. He knew that this disease would kill him, but before this moment, it hadn't felt as real. He felt he could put it off. And now, he looked back at all the missed opportunities he had these last few years and he was furious with himself. He was supposed to be Stiles' best friend… his brother, even, but he hadn't been able to handle watching Stiles fade away so he left that to Derek.

Melissa was terrified for John. She watched how badly he took Claudia's death and didn't know if he'd survive losing his son. She had only ever seen him cry twice in the many years she had known him: once when Claudia died and once shortly after Stiles was diagnosed. Yet now, she watched as he sobbed helplessly into his hands. He didn't look like the strong Sheriff this town knew and loved. He very much was a man defeated. He saw no way he could live on after this, surrounded by photos and memories of those he loved most dear. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair, Melissa thought, that this dementia would claim all three lives of the Stilinski family.

John thought only of how at least he'd be there with Stiles as he passed and he said a prayer that heaven might be real and Claudia would be there to welcome him. He jumped to his feet. "I need air," he gasped as he rushed to the door.

Fearful that he might do something reckless, Melissa followed him. "John," she said softly. "He'll be surrounded by people he loves…"

"He's too young!" he replied. "Why couldn't it have been me? I would trade places with him in a heartbeat because at least he would have you and Scott…"

"And Derek," she added.

"Derek's the reason he's dying," John snapped. "This is  _his_  fault and he's up there acting like he's so torn up about this when all along, he had the power to stop it… meanwhile I'm losing the last of my family. It's like I'm watching Claudia die all over again…"

"Stiles, for reasons I'll never understand, wanted to stay human," Melissa said. "Derek was just trying to respect that wish."

"Well as far as I'm concerned, Derek Hale murdered my son," John said coldly. "And when Stiles…" He couldn't bring himself to actually say the words, but he knew Melissa would be able to fill in the blank so he skipped them and finished the sentence, "I'm going to put a bullet through his head."

"John… don't," Melissa begged. "Derek has been great with Stiles. And you'll spend the rest of your life in prison."

"It sure as hell beats living here!" John roared. "Waking up in the morning and walking past his bedroom door… seeing the spot in the kitchen where I marked his height... This house is filled with the memories I have of my wife and my son. Anywhere will be better than spending the rest of my life in this house without them."

* * *

" _Happy birthday!" John chimed as he burst into Stiles' room. Stiles fought the urge to interject the word 'last' and ruin the moment. "I know I was supposed to wait until your party, but I couldn't."_

_Stiles absentmindedly played with the engagement ring on his finger. He had been wearing it for weeks and it still felt foreign. "Thanks," he said._

" _Who would have thought that you be engaged before you turned 18," John asked, sitting down on his son's bed._

" _It feels very Victorian," Stiles remarked. "He asked you for my hand in marriage… I'm underage… there was a very long courting time before we… you know."_

_John chuckled before the smile slowly faded. He knew that the timeline they looked at ranged anywhere from three to twenty years. Claudia lasted only eight years, which was average. "If you wanted to marry him before you turn 18, I'd sign off on it, you know."_

" _I know," Stiles said. "But… all of this sounds like Cancer Perks."_

" _You don't have cancer," John replied, obviously confused._

" _No… It's like from this book that I'm reading. This kid has cancer and she's going to die from it and she explains how when a young person has cancer, they get things that normal healthy kids don't," Stiles replied. "Normal healthy kids don't get to get engaged and married before they know if they're going to graduate high school. You wouldn't be doing this if I were normal and healthy. You'd be pissed about him being in his mid-twenties. You would have threatened to shoot him if he even thought of taking my virginity. Can you please just treat me like a normal teenager? God knows being normal is going to be hard enough from now on."_

_John cocked his head to the side. "So do you want me to ground you?"_

" _Maybe not on my birthday, no," Stiles reasoned. "But from here on out… can we go back to our normal Stilinski men thing? Please?"_

_Smiling weakly at his son, John nodded. "Sure thing, kiddo."_

* * *

Tears continued to stream down Derek's cheek as he interlaced his fingers with Stiles', bringing his husband's hand up, allowing it to brush across his scruffy cheek before kissing it. Once he began, there was no going back. "Please don't hate me for this," Derek pleaded as he began to draw the pain from Stiles. It felt unlike anything he ever experienced before. The veins in his hand and arm ran black, going all the way up.

His wolf fought against him, its instinct for self-preservation was kicking in. It was telling him to let go… to run and save himself from the pain and devastation that Stiles' death was inevitably going to cause. However, he fought that urge and held tightly.

The extra spark he possessed as an Alpha… the one that made his eyes burn bright red with power… it was fading. He was forcing it into Stiles. He was forcing him to survive and heal.

It felt as though every cell in his body was tearing in half, only to fuse back together over and over again. His eyes had remained tightly shut as he willed himself not to let go, not to run from the searing pain his act of sacrifice was causing him.

He thought of his sister and his mother, and all of the other respected Hale Alphas before him. He wondered what they might think of what he was doing with the spark that had once belonged to them… that had traveled for thousands of years since werewolves first came into existence, mother to daughter, father to son… each generation doing the sacred duty of protecting those who could not protect themselves and saving innocent lives. He hoped they would understand why he was doing this. He hoped they would be supportive.

There was nothing to say he couldn't become an Alpha again sometime later. But now, power wasn't anywhere on his mind. All he cared about was ensuring that this young man in his arms would live the life he deserved.

The agony finally became too much that he couldn't keep his cries of pain inside. Scott ran up the stairs, taking two and three steps in single bounds. "Derek, what are you doing?" he demanded.

Derek felt it. The sudden drop in his power. His eyes faded from vibrant red to their former icy blue. Stiles gasped awake, energy coursing through him like lightning. Derek collapsed onto the bed, lacking even the energy to move. "Scott… what happened?" Stiles asked, trying to wake his unconscious husband.

It took hours for Derek to wake up. When he finally did, Stiles was sitting on the side of the bed, stroking his arm in a complete reversal of the last year and a half. "It worked," Derek managed, slowly sitting up.

Stiles nodded. "I'm not sure what you did… but I feel normal…"

"I sacrificed my status as an Alpha," Derek replied. "It was the only thing I could think to do that would keep you human… but also keep you alive."

"You shouldn't have done that," Stiles said. But he didn't want to seem ungrateful, so he kissed Derek's forehead. "But thank you for doing it."

"I couldn't lose you, Stiles," Derek whispered. "I wasn't ready to let you go."

Stiles could tell that this conversation was quickly sapping him. He snuggled closely to the werewolf. "And I actually wasn't ready to die yet. Go ahead and rest," he urged. "I'll be here when you wake up."

It only took minutes for Derek to drift back into unconsciousness.

When he woke up again, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. He felt marginally better and was able to move. He knew his strength would return on the next full moon, which was in a few days. Stiles rounded the corner. "Good morning," he said brightly. He hadn't slept, unable to in the midst of being able to enjoy a sense of mobility and autonomy he hadn't enjoyed since he was hospitalized.

"Morning," Derek replied simply. Again, Stiles sat next to him.

"Scott has talked to your Betas. He's willing to be their Alpha and protect them until we find a way to get you back to Alpha status," Stiles told him.

Derek shook his head. "There are only two ways to become an Alpha. Either you steal the power from one, or you become one by goodness of character… like Scott did. Even though I was trying to do the right thing, Paige's death was my fault." He pointed to his eyes, which flashed bright blue before returning to his beautiful normal green. "True Alpha isn't an option for me… and my mom always said… as a werewolf, I'm a predator but that doesn't mean I have to be a killer. I'll be alright as an Omega. I've got you."

"You told me yourself… Omegas don't usually live long. We can help you…"

"I won't let you," Derek replied. "I could have saved your life with the Bite. You didn't want me to, so I didn't… Now please… I'm not going to kill to become an Alpha again."

Stiles froze, realizing he never actually told Derek why he refused the Bite. "I only refused the Bite because a supernatural fix wasn't an option for my mom. It seemed like cowardice to completely change what I am to avoid dying like my mom did. She was my one of my biggest heroes. She struggled so much… it wasn't fair that I got such an easy way out."

"I don't know if what I did will fix you permanently," Derek admitted. "It may have only bought you some time. But don't you think your mom would want you to live the longest, happiest life you could?"

Stiles sniffled and wiped away a tear that fell down his cheek. "She would," Stiles agreed. "But I wanted the same for her. I just… I wish I would have known about this… or that my parents would have when she was dying from it."

"But if she were here, don't you think she'd tell you to take any option you have?" Neither of them knew that John had been listening until he spoke. Stiles looked from Derek to his father, startled. Derek readjusted the way he was sitting as Stiles moved from his side to his father's open arms, crying softly into his shoulder. John squeezed his son tightly before adding. "Because I know she would have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The story doesn't end here, folks! Let me know what you think. I've still got plenty more of this story to tell... more laughs, more tears... lots more tears. :) Also, the book Stiles referred to was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. If you haven't read it, stop reading fanfiction and read that book now. It's amazing.


	6. Chapter 6

The cold air bit at his nose and fingers and he felt like he might collapse at any moment, but he continued to run. For the last several miles, he'd been alone, but Derek soon caught up with him. Stiles knew that Derek was holding himself back to stay at the same pace, but it felt good to run beside him nonetheless. They continued running until Stiles felt he was going to pass out and finally stopped.

"You wouldn't be trying to run away from anything, would you?" Derek asked.

"No," Stiles replied, struggling to catch his breath. "But I was bed-ridden and wheel chair-bound for so long that I just had to run…"

"I understand," Derek replied simply. "But don't you think you should ease into it? Sort of take it slowly?"

Stiles shook his head. "You gave me a second chance. I'm going to make the most of it."

Derek pulled Stiles close, breathing in the sweat that covered his husband's skin. He let their lips graze, before making more purposeful contact between them and deepening the kiss. They stood there, cars zooming by them, just enjoying the feeling of being in one another's arms. When the kiss ended, Derek placed another on Stiles' forehead. "Just promise me you won't overdo it, okay?"

"Derek, I'm healthy now, thanks to you. I just needed to do something to feel alive," Stiles said. "Besides… running lowers your risk of dementia."

He realized he wasn't going to win this one; so instead, Derek just squeezed his arms tightly around Stiles and held him close.

* * *

_It wasn't the smartest thing Stiles had ever done. In fact, it probably ranked in the top 10 list of the stupidest things he'd ever done. But since it was becoming clear that he wasn't going to get to have a normal Young Adult life, he was going to make the most of the time he had and make a lifetime of mistakes to yield a lifetime of experiences._

_As he sat on his bed, the little white pill in his hand, he felt nervous. His dad was going to be gone for the night and he had Scott on speed dial in case anything went wrong. He put on some music and popped the pill. He wasn't sure how long it was until he felt the bass vibrating through his body in the most amazing ways. Suddenly every note and every drop was exactly what he needed at exactly the right time. He began to dance harder than he had ever danced before in his life._

_Though it felt like minutes, more than an hour had passed. The drug was not quite yet in full-swing, but still, Stiles felt amazing. He felt free and liberated. Suddenly, the fact that he was sick and even dying from dementia didn't matter to him. He felt as though he had wings._

_Stiles froze. He glanced over to his window. It was shut and suddenly that was a problem. He moved over, wrestling with it before forcing it all the way open. The cold breeze danced across his skin and delighting him in ways he never thought possible from a breeze._

_He stepped outside onto the roof. The breeze was able to hit much more of his body. It was glorious. "I can fly," he said softly as he extended his arms in a very Kate Winslet manner, allowing the wind to envelope him._

_He wasn't even jolted from his perch at the top of the world by Derek's frightened call of "Stiles! What are you doing up there?"_

" _I can fly!" Stiles repeated. "Do you want to see?"_

" _NO!"_

" _I'll fly down to you! Stay there!" Stiles called to Derek._

" _Don't move!" Derek ordered. "I'll be up in just a second."_

" _Hurry!" Stiles urged, eager to have Derek join him._

* * *

An awkward silence continued to exist between Derek and Stiles' father. All conversation revolved around Stiles. "When are you going to start applying for colleges?" "What do you have planned next?" The truth was that Stiles had no idea. He didn't expect to live this long. None of this ever seemed like an option and frankly, now that he had this second chance at life, he didn't want to spend it in a classroom. He wanted to spend it travelling and making up for lost time.

His father just didn't seem to understand that. He wanted the pre-sickness plan to resume. Stiles just couldn't go along with it. As he stood in the kitchen, mindlessly running a sponge over the same spot on the same plate over and over, he didn't hear his father come in. "While I appreciate your attention to detail, I think that particular plate is clean."

Stiles jumped, his hand slamming down onto the counter as he tried to catch the breath that was forced out of his lungs in his fright. "Please don't scare me like that again," Stiles said.

"I could say the same thing to you," John said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I still want you to let Derek or Scott bite you," he said.

"Derek's not an Alpha anymore. He can't bite me," Stiles replied. "And in case it escaped your notice, he's not an Alpha because he healed me. I'm healthy. I'm fine."

"For now," John said. "But what about if it comes back? I don't want to live my life worrying that I'm going to have to bury my son."

"The Bite is dangerous, Dad!" Stiles yelled. "There's a very good chance that you'd bury me anyway, and even sooner if I take the Bite. Derek's first girlfriend died from the bite."

"And Derek's first boyfriend and husband might die from dementia. It's worth the risk," John said.

"Maybe to you, Dad! But not to me!" Stiles said. "Now please… can we drop this? I'm sick of everything being an argument. I got a second chance at life. We should all be ecstatic. Instead, you and Derek don't even talk. You have no idea what he sacrificed to save me. You should be more grateful to him than to throw away everything he gave up! You should love and respect me enough to let me just live my life."

"I love and respect you more than you'll ever know, Stiles," John said softly. "But I'll never be okay with the idea of losing you."

"Dad, you could lose me anyway. You're a Sheriff, remember? Car crashes, being in the wrong place at the wrong time… a million different things could happen to me that don't involve disease," Stiles reasoned.

John frowned. "You're right. I'm sorry," he said as he pulled Stiles into a hug. "I'm going to talk to Derek later today or tomorrow."

"I swear to God, Dad," Stiles said. "If you're not nice to him, I'll move out."

John chuckled. "I'll be nice. I promise."

* * *

_Derek angrily yanked Stiles into the house, tossing the human on the bed with ease. Stiles' pupils were fully dilated and Derek could hear his teeth grinding due to the effects of the drug. "What the hell is wrong with you?"_

" _What the hell wrong with you?" Stiles parroted. "You're killing my high."_

" _Good," Derek growled. "Why the fuck would you use a drug like that?"_

" _If you're not going to fuck me, then go away, Derek… I'm feeling really good right now."_

_Derek's nostrils flared and glare Stiles hadn't seen in a very long time fell over his face. It was a mix of disappointment, anger, and pain. Stiles hated seeing it on his boyfriend's face. "I could pick up the phone and call your father right now but I don't want to do that because of how humiliating it will be to him. We'll talk about this when you're sober. I'm going to sleep on the couch."_

" _Derek, please don't be like that," Stiles begged as Derek walked away. He was surprised when Derek returned a few minutes later with two bottles of water._

" _Drink all of this," he said, setting the bottles on the bedside table and shutting Stiles' window. "I'll talk to you in the morning."_

" _Will you at least give me a kiss goodnight?" Stiles asked._

" _I don't even want to look at you right now," Derek growled furiously. "So no. Go to bed."_

_Stiles' euphoric high was definitely on the downward slide. He hated the fact that he'd made Derek mad at him. He grabbed his phone and sent a simple text: "I'm sorry I disappointed you. I love you" before he cried himself to sleep, barely even touching the water._

_The next morning, Stiles and Derek had their first fight as a couple. It started with Stiles trying to apologize and ended with Stiles telling Derek he never wanted to see him again and Derek replying that he wasn't sure why he ever trusted a human in the first place… that all they'd ever done was disappoint and hurt him._

* * *

Derek noticed a change in his build without his Alpha powers. His werewolf metabolism meant that he'd always had a zero percent body fat content, but when he gained the status of Alpha, his musculature had bulked up in ways that even he didn't expect. Now, his muscles were tired a little more easily and his body had taken a leaner look. As an Omega, this was a problem for him. He had no pack ties to help strengthen him and felt the compulsive need to work out each day for several hours.

He always started his day with a series of push-ups, then crunches, then a few more push-ups before using the porch as a pull-up bar. And though their speeds greatly differed, Stiles liked to run alongside him, which meant that for the purposes of endurance training, Derek needed to go on at least one run by himself in the early hours of the morning when not even the birds were awake yet.

As he headed downstairs to begin his routine, he noticed instantly that something was different. The coffee maker, which was typically set to begin brewing an entire hour later, was nearly done, by Derek's estimation. Cautiously, he stepped into the kitchen to find the Sheriff sitting there, a half a grapefruit and newspaper in hand. "Good morning, Derek," he said.

"Uh… Good morning?" Derek replied, incredibly confused.

"Sit down, would you?" Derek pulled up a seat next to John. "I want things to go back to the way they were between us."

"You made it pretty difficult to do that," Derek said. "The only reason I'm not holding it against you was that if what I did hadn't worked, I was planning on committing suicide anyway."

"I wasn't thinking rationally, Derek. I'm very sorry," he said.

"I accept your apology, John," Derek said diplomatically. "But it's going to take some time for me to trust you again."

* * *

_Derek didn't need to bother asking who it was knocking at the door. As he slid open the heavy door, he saw Scott. "What are you doing here?" he asked._

" _Your absence was noticed at Stiles' birthday party," Scott said. "By pretty much everyone."_

" _We broke up," Derek replied. "I'm pretty sure that means birthday party invitations get rescinded."_

" _He loves you, Derek," Scott said. "He was upset. He said things he didn't mean."_

_Derek turned away from Scott, his claws piercing the upholstery on his favorite chair. "Don't you think I was listening to his heart rate the entire time? It remained steady. He meant what he said."_

_Scott sighed. "He's pushing all of us away because he thinks he's going to die from this disease."_

" _Whether that's true or not, the fact remains: Stiles told me he never wanted to see me again. So until_ he _rescinds that, I'm going to keep my distance and try to move on," Derek said. "You can show yourself out."_

" _He's worried about you," Scott said. "Can I at least tell him you're alright?"_

" _I'm not sure why you'd want to lie to him, but if you think it will help, then sure," Derek said. The truth was, he_ wasn't _alright. Far from it. He had barely eaten and couldn't really sleep. He had nobody. He missed his sister. Laura had always been his best friend. In their entire lives together, they had never fought. Not even once. She was the person he went to when he had heartaches and sadness._

_He didn't think he could go to his Betas. He was the Alpha now. It was his responsibility to lead them. He_ knew _he couldn't go to his uncle for the same reason he couldn't go to Scott: he couldn't trust them. Scott sighed again and left. Derek soon left behind him, heading to the burned shell of a house he used to call home._

_In the yard was the grave he'd dug for Laura, covered in wolfsbane to prevent another werewolf from digging her up. Though the ideal situation was her still alive and as his Alpha, he had to deal with the reality of the present; which was that his sister was dead, her body lying in an unmarked grave on what had become county property. "Hey sis," Derek said. "I really need you right now."_

_He felt the lump form in his throat. This was painful for several reasons. He'd done his best not to revisit her grave because he knew it was a deadly mistake to linger on her death, even though it had nearly been the thing that made him snap. As he talked to her, he told her about Stiles. He told her about how the weak, squishy, breakable, vulnerable human had managed to get what was left of his heart and shred it. He told her how he felt stupid and infantile to have let a human hurt him yet again. He wiped several tears from his cheek. "I love him, Laura. I really shouldn't. But I love him."_

_He could almost hear her voice in his head saying, "Then why are you telling me? Shouldn't you be telling him?" It was the exact advice she'd given him when he went to her after realizing he was in love with Paige. He knew it's what she would say now. He got into his car and headed over to Stiles' house._

_No longer feeling welcome enough to just go inside, he rang the doorbell. A surprised Sheriff answered. "Hey, Derek!" he said. "Are you and him finally back together?"_

" _No," Derek said. "I just… I needed to talk to him."_

" _He's upstairs, but I have instructions not to let you in," John said. "I'm really sorry, Derek."_

_Stiles was headed downstairs, pulling his lacrosse hoodie on. "Dad, it's alright. What do you want, Derek?"_

" _I just wanted to say happy birthday," he replied._

" _You could have sent me a text, an email, hell… you could have even used snail mail. Why did you come back?" Stiles said._

" _Stiles! Manners!" John scolded._

" _I told you I never wanted to see you again and I meant it," Stiles said._

_Derek's eyes narrowed. "Say it again."_

" _I. Never. Want. To. See. You. Again!" Stiles said. "Now if you don't get out of my house, I'm going to call the Argents and explain that I have a bit of a wolf problem."_

" _You're lying," Derek challenged. "You should know better than to lie to a werewolf. What is this really about?"_

" _I'm not having this conversation in front of my dad!"_

" _Well, I'm heading to work. So don't use me as an excuse to run from your problems, Stiles. I love you, I'll see you in the morning," John said, scooting out the door beside Derek, leaving them alone. "It was good seeing you, Derek."_

" _Good seeing you, too, sir," Derek replied awkwardly before turning back to Stiles. "Alright… spill. What is this really about?"_

" _I have nothing to say to you, Derek! Get the hell out of my house!"_

" _You owe me an explanation!" Derek yelled. "I deserve at least that!" Stiles glared back at Derek for several minutes. Neither blinked, despite the burn that developed in their eyes. "You threw me away like a piece of garbage."_

" _I didn't need the lecture then and I don't need it now," Stiles said coldly._

" _THEN FUCKING ANSWER ME!" Derek roared. The house seemed to vibrate with the force of his rage._

" _Why would you even trust my answer? After all, I'm a human and all we ever do is lie!" Stiles shot back. After several more minutes of tense silence, he finally blinked. "I love you, Derek. You know that. But you're too fucking noble to just let me die. I'm getting worse and I really don't want you to see me like this."_

" _So you broke up with me?" Derek demanded. "Why?"_

" _Because my doctor says that if I keep degenerating at this rate, I've only got a year… two if I'm lucky. The other day, I had my first fugue state. It was right after my party ended and it took me more than a day to come out of it. I have no idea what happened during that time. My dad said I couldn't find my way through the house I grew up in and that I didn't even know who I was," Stiles said._

" _I told you that when that happened, I'd be there to remind you," Derek said._

" _I'm not going to let you become my collateral damage," Stiles whimpered._

" _And I'm not giving you a choice. I'm in this for the long run, Stiles. No matter how long it is," Derek replied as he slowly approached the crying human, pulling him in for a tight hug._

" _I'm so sorry, Derek," Stiles sobbed into the werewolf's strong chest. "You must think I'm awful."_

_Derek's hand rubbed Stiles' back in an attempt to soothe him. "No, I think you're scared and you're used to being independent, so you're lashing out in any attempt to regain that independence."_

" _But I hurt you," Stiles said._

" _I've been hurt before," Derek replied. "But there's a perk to being a werewolf. I can heal."_

" _Will you forgive me?"_

" _Yeah," Derek said. "But don't push me away again. I won't come back."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So this chapter was supposed to end slightly differently, with a rather heartbreaking scene... but I couldn't figure out how to make it flow, so I'm just going to begin the next chapter with it. I'm sorry it took so long to update this one... I've been having a blast writing Predators and completely forgot about this one! Let me know what you thought!


	7. Chapter 7

_School was no longer an option. Stiles was having too many impulse and behavior control issues. The strain on his father's face was evident. He didn't get a lecture, though. John knew it wasn't Stiles' fault. But what he got instead was worse. The doctors had given him a cocktail of different medicines to manage the symptoms he was having. None of them were cheap and though Stiles pretended not to, he heard his father often yelling at faceless people from the insurance company. Stiles mostly stayed in his room, lost in the fog created by his multitudes of medications._

" _We don't_ have _to seek treatment, you know," Stiles said one night at dinner. John's face was still bright red from the angry conversation he'd had with yet another insurance agency representative while cooking dinner. "It's not like any of it is going to extend my life. All they're doing is making me nauseous, impotent, and tired."_

" _We're not going to give up, Stiles," John said. "Besides… I've paid enough in premiums to cover all of your meds ten-fold. They're going to cover it. They just don't know it yet." Stiles didn't bring it back up. It was clear his father wasn't going to see reason. When he forced down the final bite of food, he moved to bring his plate to the kitchen. "Go rest," John told him. "I'll take care of the dishes."_

" _You cooked," Stiles pointed out. "Let me help."_

" _No," John replied. "It's fine. It's almost time for you to take your night pills anyway."_

_Stiles swallowed hard, forcing down the tears of frustration that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He just wanted to be a normal teenage boy who had to do chores before he could go out and see his boyfriend. He felt more like a prisoner. He'd scarcely changed out of his pajama pants and it seemed like his father was expecting him to drop into a fugue state at any moment, which only further served to frustrate him._

_He went upstairs and brushed his teeth before heading to his bedroom. He considered masturbating. It had always been a beloved pass-time of his. As he stood in his doorway, he could hear his father running water in the kitchen sink. He figured he had at least 20 minutes to try and do what he hadn't been able to do for the last few weeks._

_He locked his bedroom door and pulled up his web browser. He knew the password to get around the firewalls. He'd known since he was 12. He wondered why his father even kept firewalls on his computer anymore. He found his favorite porn site and fished his flaccid dick out of his pants. The videos and images in front of him showed his deepest fantasies playing out. But as he looked down, nothing stirred._

_He tried stroking it to life. Eventually his hand began to cramp and he was still no closer to his goal of an erection. He felt emasculated and neutered. A surge of rage built within him and slammed his hands against the desk before toppling it to the floor, sending his computer crashing with a loud bang that immediately sent John running upstairs. "Stiles?" he called from the other side of the door, trying to open it. "Are you alright? What was that noise?"_

" _Leave me alone!" Stiles screamed back, tears streaming down his face._

" _Stiles, let me in!" John pleaded._

" _No! Because it's not going to make a difference anyway!"_

" _Are you alright?" John asked_

" _No!"_

" _Please talk to me, Stiles." John sounded defeated. Stiles was ashamed to admit that he took pleasure from hearing that edge in his father's voice._

" _I don't want to talk to you," Stiles said stubbornly._

" _Then who_ do _you want to talk to?"_

_Stiles thought for several minutes before answering, "Derek."_

* * *

 The doctors were unanimous in their response: they had witnessed a miracle. One of the nurses made the sign of the cross and fell to her knees crying when she saw Stiles walk into the office without the need for help of any sort. They performed several tests, all of which pointed to the conclusion that they all knew it would: at least for the meantime, Stiles was cured.

Tears leaked from the corners of John's eyes as he pulled Stiles in for a tight hug. When he finally released his son, he gave Derek a tight hug too. Stiles gave Derek a quick peck on the cheek.

John practically danced his way out of the doctor's office. "Lunch on me," he announced. "Wherever you want to go!"

Stiles and Derek exchanged amused smiles and hopped in the car. They ended up at an Italian restaurant.

* * *

  _Derek sped through every stop sign and red light to get to the Stilinski house. He'd never heard John sound so panicked. "I don't know what to do, Derek. I've never seen him out of control like this," he'd said in his phone call. Derek could hear the defeat in the Sheriff's voice and it played over and over in his head until his Camaro screeched to a halt in front of the mailbox._

_John was on the porch and stood to greet Derek. "Where is he?"_

" _He's in his room," John told him. "It sounds like he's completely demolishing the place. Be careful."_

_Derek flashed his eyes red. "Don't worry about me. I'll be able to handle anything he can throw at me."_

_As Derek ascended the stairs, he took a calming breath. He could hear breaking ceramic and glass. He knocked politely on Stiles' door. "Stiles? It's me."_

" _Go away!" Stiles yelled._

" _Your father said you wanted to talk to me."_

" _I changed my mind. I don't want to talk to anyone right now. I want to be left alone."_

_Derek tried to open the door, only to find it was locked. He sighed before rearing back and throwing himself against it. The door burst open. There were tiny lacerations on Stiles' hands and face from shattered glass and punching various items. "Too bad," Derek said, surveying the rather impressive amount of damage Stiles had done to his room. "Are you going to stop this temper tantrum?"_

" _Fuck off, Derek. You have no idea what it's like for me right now!" Stiles yelled. His rage was boiling back up again._

" _You're right," Derek admitted. "I don't. But I'm your boyfriend and I think you should explain it to me. What's bothering you?"_

" _My father is amassing bills he'll never be able to pay in a vain attempt to stave off the inevitable: my death. In the meantime, I have six different doctors trying to shove pills down my throat. I can barely even think straight most of the time because of all the drugs they have me taking. I don't feel that I'm even allowed to leave my room and I haven't left this house for more than a week. I can't get a fucking hard-on to save my fucking soul, and all of this FUCKING SUCKS!" Stiles was panting and out of breath by the time he finished his rant._

_Derek stared back at him. He was glad to finally hear what was truly going on in his boyfriend's head. Stiles had been bottling this frustration up. Derek decided he needed to let it loose. "And what do you plan on doing about any of it?"_

_The question caught Stiles completely off-guard. It was almost antagonistic in the way it had been asked and it angered Stiles further. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing? I'm just sitting around waiting for the next doctor to add more meds that I don't fucking want just so it'll be easier on everyone until I die."_

" _What the fuck do they know?" Derek asked, mockingly. "They only went to med school."_

_Stiles glared at Derek. "Why are you being so mean to me?"_

_Derek knew that what he was doing was working. The rant he'd gone one wasn't enough. Derek could tell that Stiles was still holding on to more anger. He needed to push Stiles just a little further. "Because for the first time since I met you, I see you as a truly pathetic human being. You're completely unrecognizable from the man I fell in love with."_

" _Take it back," Stiles said in a deadly snarl._

_Derek had Stiles right where he needed him. It just took a little more pushing. "I'm not sure why I would. It's true. The Stiles I fell in love with would never just sit by while other people decided his fate."_

_Stiles couldn't contain his anger any longer. He reared his fist back and struck Derek in the chest. It was exactly what Derek was going for. "You asshole!" he screamed, beating his fists against Derek's chest over and over. He knew better, even in his rage, to go for Derek's face. That would only hurt him more than it would hurt Derek._

" _Yeah, I'm the asshole, Stiles. Because I told you the truth," Derek goaded._

" _I'm dying, you insensitive prick! And the doctors seem to be speeding up that process!" Stiles said, pausing his violence for just a moment before getting in another punch. Derek didn't react to any of them. They barely hurt. "Nobody seems to care about what_ I _want here!"_

" _Alright, then tell me instead of trashing your room!" Derek said, grabbing Stiles' arm as it moved to make contact with him again. "What do you want?"_

_Stiles momentarily fought in vain, trying to break his wrist free from Derek's grip. He knew it wouldn't work so he gave up and began crying again. "I want to die with some dignity. I want to die knowing that my father isn't completely fucked financially for the rest of his life. I can't live the last little bit of my life with that guilt. I don't want to spend my last few years in a medically-induced fog. I just… I want to be able to have_ some _control over what is going on with my body."_

" _Now we're getting somewhere," Derek whispered. He released Stiles' arm and pulled him in for a tight hug._

_Stiles wept against Derek's chest. It felt amazing to finally let out his pent-up anger and frustration. He felt bad for the destruction he'd caused in the process and he felt even worse for hitting Derek. But after that display, he was exhausted. "I'm sorry I punched you," he mumbled as the tears faded away._

" _It's alright," Derek told him. "It's what I was going for anyway. Sometimes it just feels really good to slug someone." Stiles laughed. He looked up at Derek. His eyes were red and puffy. There were dark circles under them and his face was stained by the tears that had been falling down them. "Get some rest," Derek said after a few minutes of just holding Stiles in his arms. I'm going to go talk to your dad for a few minutes, then I'll be back up here. Tomorrow we can take care of this mess."_

_He pulled the covers over Stiles and stepped over the shattered glass and splintered pressboard that littered the bedroom before heading downstairs. John was sitting silently at the dining room table, nursing a glass of Jack Daniels. "Is he alright?" he asked as Derek stepped into the room._

" _He is now," Derek said softly._

" _Thank you for coming over. I didn't know what to do," John said._

_Derek pulled out a chair and sat down. "He mentioned that you're having trouble paying for the medical expenses…"_

_John sighed. "I'm going to get them to pay. They just need a bit more convincing."_

_Derek shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll cover his medical expenses."_

" _Derek, I can't allow that. How would you even afford it?"_

" _My family was really wealthy. Laura inherited all of it when the fire happened, but when she died, it all went to me," Derek said. "I have more than enough to live on for the rest of my life, and then some. Please… let me help."_

" _Give me some time to think on it and see if I can reason with them first," John replied._

" _And Stiles doesn't want to be on the meds he's on. Talk to the doctors about changing them. Don't worry about the cost. He's miserable on what they've got him taking," Derek said._

" _Why wouldn't he just tell me?" John asked quietly._

_Derek shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he didn't want to worry you?"_

" _He should have just told me," John said softly._

" _Stiles doesn't think of things the way we do. Most of us live in a world of absolutes… Everything is black and white. I don't think Stiles sees things in that regard. He occupies a world filled with possibilities and gray areas. He lives in a world where the right choice and the wrong choice might be the same," Derek said softly._

_John chuckled. "You just very eloquently summed up the very reason that raising him was so difficult. I love that boy, though, Derek. More than anything in the world. And I know exactly how this is going to go because I went through it with his mom. He doesn't deserve this."_

" _I agree," Derek replied. "Nobody does."_

* * *

 Derek was lying lazily on the couch, a book in his hand. Stiles was nestled against him, playing a video game. "Derek… Do you think that now that I've got a clean bill of health that we could maybe get married for real?"

Derek put the book down. "I certainly don't see why not."

"I mean… We could have an actual wedding and go on a real honeymoon. Maybe move into our own place, like normal married couples?" he added. "Our entire relationship always revolved around me being sick. Maybe we should try being normal…"

"I like the idea. It's your dad you're going to need to convince," Derek said with a smile, craning his neck to plant a kiss on the top of Stiles' head.

"Convince me of what?" John asked as he strode into the living room.

"Stiles wants to do a real wedding with a real honeymoon… and he mentioned moving out," Derek said.

"I don't see why not," John said. "I'll miss you both, though."

"It's not like we'd be moving away. Just getting a place of our own," Stiles said. "You would be more than welcome to come over. It would just give us some privacy and give you a break from having us here all the time."

"You could get jobs and then you wouldn't have to be here all the time," John replied, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Derek's rich… and he doesn't do well with people," Stiles said.

"He does well with you," John countered.

"That's different," Derek said. "I actually love Stiles."

"I wouldn't mind getting a job," Stiles admitted. "I think it'd be kind of nice. It's something that I wanted to do earlier, but I couldn't."

"I could get you a job in the Sheriff's office," John suggested.

"Nepotism, Dad?" Stiles chuckled. "I thought the Stilinskis were above that."

"Honestly, having someone who is well aware of the supernatural goings-on in this town would be a God-send to me," John said. "I'd not be the only one who works there who believes werewolves and kanimas and all that other supernatural shit is real."

* * *

 

_It took them nearly all day to clean up the mess Stiles made in his fit. Afterwards, Derek took Stiles shopping to replace the furniture, picture frames, and computer that had been utterly destroyed. Stiles felt incredibly guilty as Derek swiped a credit card for a transaction that totaled more than two thousand dollars. He begged Derek not to buy the stuff. He figured there was no reason to anyway. It was just stuff that his father was going to have to sell off after the disease finally killed him and the hospital bills were too much._

" _I'm taking care of your hospital bills," Derek said. "Don't worry about those."_

" _No," Stiles said. "This is too much."_

" _Let me worry about my finances and you just worry about you," Derek said, effectively ending the conversation._

_The rest of the night was spent with Stiles moving the photos into the new frames and watching Derek assemble the desk and set up the computer. When his clock finally read 11:38 PM, he yawned. "It's time for bed."_

" _You're right!" Derek said. He spread a blanket on the floor. In honor of the agreement John made to allow Stiles to have a 'normal' end to his teenage years, Derek was allowed to share the same room when he slept over, just so long as he slept on the floor. Stiles thought it was unfair and offered to let Derek use the bed instead, but Derek would hear none of it. He and Stiles kissed for several minutes before Derek broke away. "Stop stalling. Get some rest."_

" _Sleep well, Derek," Stiles replied, stealing one last peck of Derek's soft lips._

" _You too," Derek said before taking one of the pillows from Stiles' bed and trying to get comfortable. Before long, Derek could hear the sounds of Stiles snoring. And shortly after, he fell asleep, too._

_Since falling in love with Stiles, Derek slept more soundly than he had since Laura died. If it hadn't been for the fact that his exercise regimen often had him awake in the wee hours of the morning, he would not have heard Stiles tiny sobs and muffled attempts to gather his blankets and sheets. His eyes fluttered open. "Stiles?" he asked groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes._

" _Go back to bed, Derek," Stiles managed. Derek knew instantly that Stiles was crying._

" _Stiles, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up. Then he inhaled and knew exactly why. He could smell the shame and embarrassment rolling off his boyfriend's skin more strongly than the urine that was soaking into the bed. Instantly, he snapped into what Stiles had come to refer to as "Dutiful Boyfriend Mode" and turned on the light to assess the situation. Stiles had taken off his pajamas and was rolling the wet linens together, putting them into the plastic laundry basket. Derek gingerly took the basket from Stiles' hands. "Here. I'll take care of this. You just take a shower and relax."_

" _Derek, I know you're trying to help… but can you please just leave," Stiles asked quietly, his voice shaking and cracking as he spoke._

" _Love, it's alright, I'm just—" Derek started, but was interrupted._

" _No, Derek. Nothing about this is alright!" Stiles replied between sobs. In his embarrassment, he tried to hide his face. "I just turned 18. I'm legally an adult now and I wet the bed with my boyfriend spending the night. I feel humiliated and I really don't want you to see me like this."_

" _You've helped me in times when I'd rather you not have seen me so broken," Derek said. "It's my job as your boyfriend to be there for you. Especially when you feel like this. Go hop in the shower. I'll take care of the rest."_

_Stiles nodded. He didn't want to be touched, so he skirted around Derek's open arms and ran into the bathroom, getting the water warm for a shower. Derek brought the blanket, sheets and Stiles' pajamas downstairs and loaded them into the washing machine before mixing a few things to help clean the mattress. He found a fan and aimed it at the bed to help it dry before sneaking into the bathroom and sitting on the toilet as Stiles sobbed in the shower._

_When Stiles finally turned off the water and opened the curtain, he smelled like soap and misery. Derek finally wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, allowing Stiles to continue crying into his shoulder. They stood there for a few minutes before Derek let go and began running the towel over his boyfriend's skin. Stiles stood there, his gaze unfocused. The tears were indistinguishable from the water droplets dripping down from his hair. After Stiles was completely dry, Derek caught his gaze and stared into his eyes. "I understand that you're embarrassed right now. But you have to recognize that this wasn't your fault."_

" _I know," Stiles finally admitted. "I just… I'm having less and less control over my body and my life and I hate it." Tears began welling up in his eyes again. "I would give just about anything to be normal again, Derek."_

" _My offer still stands, Stiles," Derek said. "I could turn you."_

_Stiles' breath caught in his throat. It was the only thing that kept him from saying 'yes' in that moment of weakness and shame. However, as he tried to scream the word… to beg Derek to make this awful disease go away, he couldn't do it. He realized how many times his father must have woken up in the middle of the night to help change his mother when the same thing had happened to her. He wondered how much courage it took his mother to continue to try and act as though nothing was wrong. His mother had gone through all of this and more without the Bite as a means to escape. At last, he shook his head. "I don't want to be bitten," he said. "I want to stay human."_

_Derek nodded. He respected Stiles' decision. "Alright," he said, putting an arm around Stiles and helping him out of the bathtub. "Let's go back to sleep."_

" _My sheets aren't going to be done washing and my bed is probably still soaked," Stiles said. "I'll just crash on the couch until they're clean."_

_Derek shook his head. "Just sleep on the floor with me. Your dad said that I had to sleep on the floor. He didn't say you couldn't join me."_

_Stiles forced a weak smile. "Thank you, Derek," he said as they lied down side-by-side._

_Derek pulled the blankets over them and wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles. "You're welcome."_

_Stiles was exhausted. He managed to whisper a soft "I love you" before he once again drifted into slumber. Derek kissed the crown of his boyfriend's head._ **I love you, too** _, he thought. Afraid to vocalize it for fear of waking Stiles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update! Who knew graduating would lead to me getting something similar to a life outside my room!? Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I really love hearing your feedback.


	8. Chapter 8

Reclining in his chair, Stiles tossed a sharpened pencil straight up into the air. It stuck into the ceiling tile along with the twelve other pencils he previously threw. The other people who worked in the Sheriff's office eyed him in slight annoyance, but felt unsure as to whether or not they should say anything. The kid  _had_  miraculously survived a disease that should have killed him.

"Those pencils tend to work better when they're not in the ceiling," Deputy Parrish said as he passed by, giving Stiles a wink.

"It's so freaking boring, though," Stiles groaned.

"Being a cop isn't as glamorous as people think," Parrish admitted.

A knock on the door frame grabbed Stiles' attention. Derek was standing there with a box of doughnuts and several cups of coffee. "Working hard?" Derek asked as he glanced up to see Stiles' pencil collection in the roof.

Stiles flew to his feet and quickly grabbed a cup of coffee, planting a kiss on Derek's lips. "Thank you  _so_  much!" he said, moving the cup to his lips.

"Stiles if you take a sip of that I swear to God I will kill you," John shouted out of his doorway. "Put the coffee down. You're hyperactive enough."

"But Derek was nice enough to bring us coffee," Stiles pouted.

"No… he was nice enough to bring  _us_  coffee," John corrected, indicating everyone in the room except Stiles.

"He was nice enough to come get you the hell out of here," Tara said. "I watched you grow up and I love you, Stiles… but an office is not where you belong. Especially not this one."

Stiles looked between Tara, his father, and Derek before walking out to Derek's car. He was upset, but hanging out with Derek beat the mind-numbing boredom of sitting in the Sheriff's office all day long.

When Derek walked out, he unlocked the car and Stiles grumpily threw himself into the passenger seat. "You look like someone kicked your puppy," Derek observed.

"I just got fired by my dad."

"Well I have a surprise for you, so wipe that frown off your face and prepare for a very long car ride," Derek said.

"I don't have anything packed…" Stiles complained.

"I've already taken care of that," he replied, pointing to a suitcase in the back seat. He threw the car into gear and sped down the road.

* * *

_The next morning, Stiles woke up in Derek's arms. He slowly sat up, trying his best not to wake the werewolf snoozing next to him. He made his way downstairs where his father was already awake, and from the looks of it, about halfway through his second cup of coffee. Stiles sat down at the table, not saying a word. He glanced over to find his sheets and blanket folded neatly in the laundry area. His face and his heart sunk. He had been hoping he could keep this from his father._

_John studied him. "Do you want to talk about it?"_

_Stiles shook his head, "Not really."_

" _Okay," John replied. "But you can if you want to… you know that, right?"_

" _Yeah," Stiles replied._

_The Stilinski men sat in silence for a few minutes before John said, "I think you and Derek should spend a weekend away."_

" _I thought we talked about me having a normal life," Stiles replied dismissively._

_John sighed. "There's no use in acting like your situation is normal. We don't know how many more years you have. There are experiences you should have while you can still enjoy them."_

_Stiles agreed to talk to Derek about it, but left the table, grabbing his blankets and sheets and went upstairs, where Derek was just waking up. "Hey," he said groggily as he sat up._

_Stiles felt the bed and found it was dry so he began to make it. Immediately Derek got up and started helping but Stiles rebuffed him. "I want to do things on my own for as long as I can," he said._

_Feeling awkward, Derek stood there watching Stiles. "Is everything alright?"_

_Pausing his actions, Stiles let out a sigh, his shoulders sinking. "I'm still really embarrassed about it. Can we just pretend it didn't happen?"_

" _Yeah," Derek said._

" _Dad wants us to take a couple's trip," Stiles said._

" _I'd love that," Derek said. His hands snaked around Stiles._

" _But what if while we're staying in the hotel and_ _ **this**_ _happens again," Stiles asked._

" _Stiles, anything could happen. It's a risk that we take… but I don't think you should stop living just because you've got this disease. And maybe a vacation would do you some good. The only time you've left your house in a few weeks was when we went to the store yesterday," Derek said._

" _So you really want to do this?" Stiles asked, turning around and resting his head and his hands on Derek's chest._

" _Yeah," Derek replied as he kissed the top of Stiles' head._

* * *

Stiles had no idea where they were going. All he knew was that they were heading south. He and Derek talked. He fell asleep for a little while, and when he woke up, he was entirely unsure where they were.

"Ok, where are we going?" he asked, trying to hid the annoyance he felt in his voice.

"I can't tell you yet."

"I'm serious, Derek… where are we going?"

"Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?" Derek asked.

"If you're expecting me to do anything that involves me taking off my clothes then yes."

"Do you remember the first place we ever went as a couple?"

Stiles stared out the windshield, a warm smile spreading over his face. "The Palomar…"

* * *

_Derek was hesitant to allow the Valet to take his Camaro. The only thing he loved more than that car was Stiles. The large door of the Palomar Hotel faced Fifth Avenue in San Diego. The Gaslamp District was beautiful. The trolley was right by the hotel and Stiles was unsure if he'd ever seen a more beautiful interior decoration scheme._

_As Derek took care of the booking information, Stiles looked around the lobby. He had his misgivings that he'd be able to control himself while he was here. Derek approached and picked up Stiles' bag and led him to the elevator. They took it to the third floor. As they exited the elevator, Stiles noticed there was a spa. "Seriously, Derek… this is too much."_

" _A weekend away with spa treatments might be just what you need to relax and to feel better," Derek said as he slid the key card into the door of room 301. The narrow entryway led into a large sleeping area. Stiles' breath was taken away as he looked around. Derek smiled as he watched Stiles, whose next action was to open the curtains. The view of the street below was nice. "I'm sorry I couldn't get a better view of San Diego… this was the only room they had, unfortunately."_

" _Derek, this is beautiful."_

_Coming up behind Stiles, Derek wrapped his arms around him. "Why don't we close those curtains… if people see what I'm about to do to you, they might get jealous."_

" _We can't have that…" Stiles giggled as he pulled the curtains closed once more. He pulled out of Derek's arms and kicked off his shoes before pulling off his socks and beginning the process of unbuttoning his shirt._

" _I want to do that part," Derek pouted. Immediately, Stiles stopped, resigning himself to Derek's will. He liked when Derek took control, and that's exactly what Derek did. He picked Stiles up and threw him onto the bed, which seemed to meet him like a cloud. The bed was so comfortable that Stiles wondered if he'd be able to stay awake during the act of sex long enough to enjoy it._

_It was the second time they made love and it was just as magnificent and splendid as the first._

_When they were done, Stiles felt almost too worn out to go exploring the city, but Derek refused to accept that as an answer. "Alright then," Stiles said. "You shower first. I need a few more minutes to enjoy what we just did…"_

_Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles' cheek before stepping his bare feet onto the cool hardwood floors. He slid the door behind him and turned the water on, wanting to shower quickly. The spray fell on him like a waterfall, but it was refreshing. He was able to rinse off the sweat he worked up during their lovemaking. It was bittersweet for him. The sweat carried with it the emotions that were felt during the time, both from him and from Stiles. He was literally washing off the scent of Stiles' happiness. It was the first time he'd smelled happiness on Stiles in a very long time._

_When he was finally clean, he turned off the water and ran the towel over his skin, absorbing the water that rolled down it before tying it securely around his waist. The mirror was thoroughly fogged up but he still brushed his teeth, washing away the taste of Stiles' skin and come. Once that was done, he slid the door back open, releasing for the first time some of the steam that had accumulated during the course of his hygiene regimen._

_The moment he laid eyes on Stiles he could smell that something was wrong. The scents common to the afterglow of sex hung in the air. But it was polluted by confusion and fear. "Stiles, what's wrong?" Derek asked calmly._

" _What are you doing in my hotel room?" Stiles asked. Derek closely monitored his heartbeat._

" _It's_ _ **our**_ _hotel room," Derek replied as a knot started forming in the pit of his stomach that made him want to throw up. "I booked it for_ _ **us**_ _."_

_Stiles shook his head. "I don't know who you are." He pulled up the blanket and crawled beneath it hiding his body from Derek's view. "And I certainly don't know why you're naked in my hotel room."_

_Tears threatened to spill from Derek's eyes. He could see it in Stiles' eyes, hear it in his voice and heartbeat, and smell it rolling off his skin. "It's me, Stiles." His voice cracked. "I'm your boyfriend."_

_Stiles' jaw dropped. "_ _**You** _ _are my boyfriend?" Derek nodded. "I think I'd remember if a man as hot as you were my boyfriend…" Stiles looked around, realizing that they were both naked. "Have we… you know…_ _**done it** _ _?"_

_Again, Derek nodded. He hoped that any information he gave would jog something in Stiles' memory. Stiles got on his knees, holding the blanket up to cover his dick. He studied Derek closely. Derek felt objectified by it. "You don't see me, do you?" Derek asked softly._

" _Of course I see you… I can't stop staring at you," Stiles replied. "You're gorgeous."_

" _You're looking at me," Derek said. "But you don't_ _ **see**_ _me."_

_Stiles paused as he took in Derek's reaction. "You really love me, don't you."_

" _Yeah," Derek managed. "I really do." Stiles' eyes narrowed. He moved closer to Derek, allowing the blanket to fall. Derek averted his eyes. "You should cover up…"_

" _Why? You've already seen it… we've had sex. You said so yourself," Stiles replied._

" _But you aren't you right now," Derek said. "So… no. I need you to cover yourself up."_

_Stiles pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. "Or we could have sex…"_

" _No," Derek said, this time more forcefully. He did something he never thought he could ever do. He turned his back on Stiles. "You don't even know who you are right now. So cover up please." To be honest, it was more accurate to say he was turning his back_ _ **to**_ _Stiles; but for him, it was difficult to tell the difference. He didn't know how to handle this stranger in his hotel room… who didn't know who he was or how they got there. He didn't know how long it would be until Stiles—_ _ **his**_ _Stiles—was back._

" _Did I do something wrong?" Stiles asked. It hit Derek's ear like an off-beat snare drum. It didn't even sound like his Stiles' voice._

" _It would essentially be rape if I did anything with you right now," Derek said. "It would be a betrayal that I would never be able to forgive myself for."_

" _But I would want it anyway," Stiles argued._

" _I don't care," Derek argued back. His voice caused the room to shake. Stiles' heartbeat began to race. Fear became the only thing Derek could smell. Stiles was afraid of him and every inhale brought another surge of that panic into his nostrils. He struggled to maintain a calm voice. "Please just put on some clothes. I'll answer any questions you have."_

" _Fine," Stiles said. He got out of the bed and found his underwear, which had been thrown on top of the lamp in the corner of the room. "I'm covered up. Will you stop treating me like I have some sort of plague?"_

" _You're afraid of me," Derek said softly._

" _I'm not sure who you are," Stiles said. "I'm not sure who I am."_

" _And you haven't called the police… or asked me to leave," Derek noted. "Why?"_

" _Because what if I did?" Stiles asked. "You could kill me before I had the chance to. I'm scrawny. You're… you're not."_

" _Do you honestly think that I could kill you? Or even bring myself to hurt you?" Derek asked. He already knew the answer to that question. That didn't make it hurt any less when he heard it._

" _Yes."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update. Life has been getting in the way. Let me know what you thought of the chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

_The fugue state only lasted a few hours, but it was enough to put a damper on the entire trip. He cried silently the entire drive back from San Diego._

_Derek didn't know how to help him. He wished he could have cried too, but knew he needed to stay strong for Stiles. The car was filled with the scent of Stiles' frustration, fear, and anger. When they finally pulled into the driveway, Stiles finally spoke. "Are you mad at me?" he asked timidly._

" _Of course not," Derek replied. "You couldn't help what happened."_

" _Then why won't you talk to me?" Stiles asked._

" _Believe me," Derek said. "It's not you."_

" _The whole 'it's not you, it's me,' thing?" Stiles clarified. "Really?"_

" _That's not what I meant, Stiles. I just… I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about it. I love you so much… but when you couldn't recognize me… it was one of the most painful things I've ever been through," Derek said. "I didn't think it would hurt as much as it did."_

" _You said you could handle this… I gave you an out, Derek," Stiles said._

" _For fuck's sake, I know, Stiles!" Derek snapped, not meaning to. He instantly regretted it as he saw how hurt Stiles looked after. His boyfriend's lip quivered and the silent tears became fully-formed sobs. Stiles quickly hooked his seat belt and ran into the house. Derek slammed his fist against the door and allowed himself to scream out his frustration and anger._

_John eventually came out and sat in the passenger seat. "Are you alright?"_

" _He had a fugue incident while we were there. It freaked me out and I have nobody I can talk to about this!" Derek said._

" _You could talk to me," John said. "When he looks at you and has no idea who you are… it pierces you."_

" _I shouldn't have let him realize it got to me," Derek said, staring forward._

_John sighed. "What good is bottling up your emotions, Derek? It will just make you resentful."_

" _I could never resent Stiles!" Derek said sharply._

" _Maybe not now… and maybe not in the near future… but if you don't at least vent, you will. Take it from someone who has been through this already," John admitted. "And the moment you realize that the resentment is there, the guilt becomes oppressive. I turned to alcohol. It wasn't healthy."_

" _Alcohol doesn't work on me," Derek said._

" _Then talk to someone… talk to me… talk to Scott… talk to a therapist… just talk to somebody," John advised._

* * *

The hotel smelled just as Stiles remembered it. The front desk clerk smiled at them as he handed them both a voucher for free wine in the hotel bar. Stiles returned the smile and looked at Derek. "Just tell me you didn't get us the same room," he said.

"It was already booked," Derek replied with a smile. "I just thought that we could get a redo on this entire vacation."

"God it sucked," Stiles laughed as they waited for the elevator.

"It started out great," Derek noted. Stiles smiled as he remembered. When they settled into the room, Derek asked him what he wanted to do. The look Stiles gave him was so scorching hot in its lustfulness that Derek's mouth and throat immediately went dry. He opened the minibar and quickly drained a bottle of water.

"The last time we ever had sex was in this hotel, you know that?" Stiles asked. Derek nodded as he moved closer to Stiles. "This will be the first time you have sex with—"

Derek's lips crushed Stiles' in his attempt to taste everything he could, interrupting his sentence. Stiles' breath was knocked from his lungs by the force of it. He wanted nothing more than to be ravaged by his lover. Derek's fingers traced down Stiles' abdomen, reached into his pants and caressed his length. Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth.

Derek stopped kissing Stiles and put his mouth to his lover's ear. "Do you want me to suck you?" he asked, his voice heavy with desire.

The sensation of Derek's rough hands against his shaft made Stiles feel weak. He seemed to have lost the capacity for words and made a noise that sounded something between a moan and a whimper, combined with an emphatic nod. Derek pushed Stiles onto the bed and pulled down his pants in one swift motion. Stiles' cock bounced straight up, harder than Stiles ever remembered it getting. There were no drugs in his system to fuck with his libido this day. The heady aroma of lust filled the air as Derek dropped to his knees, his fingers dancing lightly along its length. His index finger dabbed the bead of pre-cum forming at the tip and he rubbed it against his thumb. "Please, Derek…" Stiles begged. His manhood ached for Derek's mouth and Derek, not being one to want Stiles to suffer, brought it to his lips.

Stiles' entire body shuddered as Derek's lips closed around him. It had been so long since he felt release. He was surprised that the idea of sex had not crossed his mind yet. He had been so intent on living that he forgot  _this_. Derek's hands massaged the insides of Stiles' thighs as his mouth and tongue worked over every inch of the human's cock. After a few minutes of it, Stiles began grunting, "Derek… I'm gonna…."

* * *

_Derek wanted to run. He wanted to run hard and fast. He wanted to physically burn off the frustration and anger he felt, but he knew what message Stiles would see from that and instead, he chose to open the car door and go inside. John followed quickly behind him. "Derek… don't go up there yet. Let me talk to him first," he said._

" _Ok," Derek said awkwardly, taking a seat in the living room. He tried not to listen, but couldn't help it._

" _Come in," Stiles said after John knocked on his door. The voice was muffled, but Derek could still tell that he had been crying. "Did Derek leave?" he asked._

" _No… he's downstairs," John replied._

" _Why didn't he come up?"_

" _Because I told him not to," John said. "Look, son. You've got to cut him some slack."_

" _I gave him an out!"_

" _He doesn't want an out, Stiles. He wants some understanding. You don't know how much it hurts when you don't recognize us… I've dealt with it with your mom. Derek has never had to handle that. He's entitled to a freak-out moment of his own."_

* * *

Derek was reclined on the bed, panting and covered in sweat as Stiles lay on top of him. Both were tuckered out from the intense lovemaking they had just done. Stiles slipped out of him and Derek smiled. "That was amazing," Derek said finally. It was the first time he had felt release since the last time he had been in this hotel.

"We were so uninhibited," Stiles said with a smile on his face. He looked at Derek, his smile fading into a concerned frown. "Was it good for you?"

Derek chuckled. It sounded funny in Stiles' ears, with his head resting on the werewolf's chest. "I'm surprised you have to ask… you're covered in the evidence." Derek didn't have to see his face. He could smell the worry coming off of Stiles. He wrapped his arms around Stiles, accidentally brushing a ticklish spot. Stiles let out a boyish giggle that further melted Derek's heart. "What's wrong?"

Stiles didn't answer immediately. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts. "I was just thinking… this is only our third time doing it… and it's the first time we've both been on the same playing field in terms of health."

"Despite the efforts we made to the contrary, your illness did affect our relationship in a lot of ways," Derek said. "But now we can really get to know one another on a level we never could before."

"What if you realize you don't love me?" Stiles asked.

"That will never happen," Derek assured him. "Now let's shower. I have tonight planned out."

Stiles smiled and put aside his moment of self-doubt as he peeled his bare skin away from Derek's.

* * *

_Stiles was crying into his pillow when Derek walked in. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you," he mumbled, not getting up from the bed._

" _And I'm sorry for the same," Derek replied._

" _Our weekend was ruined," Stiles said._

_Derek sat on the bed in front of him. "It started out with some really great sex…"_

" _I can barely even remember it," Stiles admitted. The fugue states always muddled his memories. "You told me that I'm not my disease… but I see it in your eyes. I see it in everyone's eyes when they look at me. People walk on egg shells around me. They treat me different._ _ **You**_ _treat me differently."_

_Derek sighed. "I'm sorry. I just… we may not have much time together. I want to spend all the time I have making you happy. We shouldn't waste time being mad or fighting with one another."_

" _But normal couples get mad… they fight…" Stiles pointed out._

" _We're not a normal couple, love," Derek said softly. "And you have to accept that."_

" _I don't_ _ **have**_ _to do anything, Derek!" Stiles said hotly._

" _You're a human and I'm an Alpha werewolf. Any possibility of normal went out the window long ago," Derek said. "But if you want, I can fix this problem."_

" _How?"_

" _I could turn you," Derek suggested._

_Stiles shook his head emphatically. "My answer hasn't changed since you last brought it up. I want to stay human. Promise me… promise me you'll keep me human."_

" _Ok" Derek said. "I promise."_

* * *

The breeze off the bay ran through Stiles' hair as he walked with Derek, their fingers interlaced. "I'm so glad we got to redo this trip. Take two was definitely much better," he said.

Derek stopped walking, Stiles turned and faced him. Derek was looking up at the sky. The city was too bright for them see many stars, but Derek didn't care. He turned his attention to Stiles. He was enthralled by the way Stiles took in the world around him. "Now that we have this second chance, I think we should do this right." Stiles' breath caught in his throat as he watched Derek sink down to one knee. "Stiles, we are in one of the most gorgeous cities in the United States, surrounded by the beautiful Pacific Ocean, the stars above… and still, I think you're the most beautiful thing in sight. I want for us to spend the rest of our lives together." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, placing it on Stiles' finger. "Will you marry me… for real, this time?"

It was the second time Derek had proposed to him. His answer didn't change. He wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye and nodded his head emphatically, unable to get the word "Yes" past the lump that formed in his throat. Derek stood up and kissed Stiles, picking him up and spinning him around in a way that charmed Stiles because of how clichéd it was. Derek set Stiles back on his feet in the sand.

The human's head ran wild with the possibilities their marriage would be like. He wondered if they would get a house together or stay with his dad. He wondered he would keep his last name… take Derek's… or maybe hyphenate. "I love you," Stiles said finally. "I love you. I love you… I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm sorry I took so long. This time of year is super stressful at work and I was feeling a lack of creativity.


	10. Chapter 10

_The burger king was busy, but Stiles had wanted a whopper and Derek couldn't bring himself to deny his boyfriend anything. He ordered two meals and stood in line to wait for them to come out, handing the cups to Stiles. "Water, if you'd please?" he said, kissing Stiles' cheek. Stiles went to stand in the line gathering at the soda fountain. Derek received the food and found a table. He nibbled on a French fry or two as he waited on Stiles to join him. The line at the soda fountain grew ever longer and Derek began hearing angry voices. "Some of us are on our lunch break!" "Get your drinks or get out of the damn way!"_

" _Please just leave me alone!" the panic in Stiles' voice caused Derek to immediately jump to his feet. He moved to his boyfriend's side with the swiftness that could only be achieved by an Alpha werewolf._

" _Stiles, are you ok?" Derek asked softly, ignoring the angry shouts about how Derek cut in line._

" _I forgot what any of this stuff is," he whimpered, trying to hide the fact he had been silently crying. "I forgot what you asked for… and I even forgot how to use this…"_

_An impatient construction worker shoved Stiles so hard he fell to the ground, dazed and sobbing. Derek fought the urge to fully shift, but managed to grab the man's arm. His claws dug into the man's skin and his grip tightened so much that Derek could feel the blood pooling, unable to flow properly. "If you_ **ever** _lay a hand on him again, I will rip out your fucking throat. Do you understand me?"_

" _Let me go or you'll be picking yourself up off the floor like your boyfriend there," the man said through a quavering voice._

_Derek let his eyes flash and his voice deepened into a low growl. "Try it and I'll tear you apart right here." Derek threw the man's arm away, crushing several of his bones and leaving deep scratches. He then turned to Stiles who was trying to shield himself from view. He eased Stiles to his feet and wrapped his dad's leather jacket around the human's shoulders and ushered him outside, leaving their food practically untouched on the table._

_The moment they were outside, Stiles' already fragile emotional state completely unraveled. "Derek, I am so sorry… I can't believe I embarrassed you like that."_

" _Listen… you didn't embarrass me. That guy was an asshole," Derek growled, throwing the Camaro into gear and peeling out of the parking lot. Anger seemed to emanate from him. "We won't let him ruin our date day."_

" _I really just want to go home," Stiles said softly._

" _We don't have to go home," Derek said, still unable to remove the edge of anger from his voice._

_Stiles couldn't help but to think that the anger he heard in his boyfriend's response was for him. "Derek, I feel awful. I feel mentally and emotionally drained and I just want to rest."_

* * *

"I think he's actually gone insane," Allison said, cocking her head to the side as she, Scott, and Derek watched Stiles racing through Bed, Bath, and Beyond with the scanner gun to add items to their wedding gift registry.

"Does he even know what that thing is?" Scott added.

"At least I didn't bring him to Ikea," Derek said thankfully.

"Oh my God! Derek! Look at this!" Stiles shouted across the way, picking up a colander that could collapse to save space. "We need one!"

"You don't really cook," Scott said. "I don't think you've cooked once since before…" He let that sentence hang in the air. None of them needed to finish it. They all knew what Scott meant.

"You could be a good housewife, Stiles," Allison mused.

The protective growl from Derek's throat issued almost immediately at the perceived slight toward his fiancé. Despite the fact that Derek was now a Beta, Scott knew that Derek's experience and control could make him deadly in any sort of physical altercation. "She didn't mean it like that," he quickly assured Derek.

"The wedding is just a few weeks away," Stiles said, joining them. "Derek, I need you to stop talking and start scanning."

Pulling Stiles close, Derek kissed his nose before saying, "You've scanned almost every item in the store."

"We need to also go by the florist and then put the final payment down on the reception venue," Stiles reminded him.

"You're the one who wanted to set the wedding so soon," replied Derek.

"I don't want to not be married to you for any longer than necessary," Stiles said and Scott began making fake vomiting noises.

"That was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard," he muttered.

"Given the circumstances, I'm pretty sure I get a free pass," Stiles asserted.

"Just promise me you won't act so gross after you're already married," Allison said.

* * *

_The grip on Derek's anger was slipping rapidly. The thought of that man laying a finger on Stiles had made it so that Derek couldn't even sheath his claws or dim the bright red glow of his eyes. That man had ruined what was going to be a beautiful day out with his boyfriend. Stiles had asked him not to come inside until he calmed down and he didn't argue. As soon as Stiles was inside, Derek peeled out of the driveway and set to trying to find the man responsible for his anger._

_Every voice in his head was telling him he should just go to the loft and exercise the anger out of his system. But then the vision replayed in his head of the man_ **shoving** _Stiles. The rage flared back up, more powerful than ever. He whipped into the Burger King parking lot. He watched as the man and his friends piled into a van._

_Derek followed them, staying one—maybe two car spaces behind them. When they turned off the main road to get into one of the large industrial complexes, Derek knew they were his. The hunting instinct was natural. He was the apex predator and he was going to make that man pay._

_Derek killed the engine when they all piled out of the van. He was parked a little ways away and got out of the car. The one who had pushed Stiles came around to the back of the van, likely grabbing tools while the others filtered inside. Isolated from the rest, Derek quickly picked him off, shoving him hard into a wall. Despite his hulking size, the man was nothing compared to a pissed off Alpha. His head struck the concrete block wall, eliciting a cry of "What the fuck?" A look of realization passed over his face when he saw who was responsible. He didn't notice the glowing red eyes, sharp claws, or wolf-like features at first, but when he did, he tried to scream, but his fear kept the scream caught in his throat._

" _You hurt someone I care about. And now you're going to pay," Derek said, raising a clawed hand._

" _Derek stop!" came the shout from down the long row. He looked over to see his three betas running toward him._

* * *

The large windows of the loft looked like stained glass as the rain beat against them. Stiles and Derek were lying in bed. The lamp by Stiles' bedside cast a warm glow over the bed as he poured over his laptop.

"Stiles, I'm exhausted… can you please turn that light off so we can go to sleep?" Derek asked groggily.

"I'm trying to find places for us to go on our honeymoon!"

Derek leaned over and pushed his lips onto Stiles'. He deepened the kiss as he closed his fiancé's laptop and set it down on the floor. When the kiss finally stopped, Stiles had to take a moment to catch his breath. "Every one of those places will still be there tomorrow. In the meantime, this werewolf needs some sleep. And for the record, I don't care where we go on the honeymoon, since I plan on us being in the hotel room most of the time having lots and lots of fantastic sex."

Stiles grinned. "Maybe we should practice for that."

"Gladly," Derek said, accentuating the word with another kiss. "But I'm going to need some sleep first. And so will you."

Chuckling, Stiles reached over and turned off the light before cuddling close to Derek, who wrapped his arm protectively around him. The sound of the rain and distant thunder lulled them both into sleep in a matter of moments.

The next morning, Stiles woke to the smells of breakfast being cooked. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and even hashbrowns were all being laid out on the table. Derek finished setting out a carafe of orange juice before he acknowledged Stiles. "Good morning!" he said brightly.

"What's all this for?"

"Did you forget we have plans for today?" Derek asked with a wink. "You're going to need your protein and carbs if you're going to keep up with me."

"So we're really going to spend all day having sex?" Stiles asked skeptically.

"Yes. I've turned off and hidden all of your gadgets. Today is just for us," Derek said.

"Well, you've cooked a feast like we're about to go run a marathon," Stiles joked, pouring maple syrup on his pancakes and taking a bite of the crisp, salty bacon.

"You're about to have a full day of sex with a Werewolf. Even the most avid marathon runners would want a few extra weeks to train for what we're about to do," Derek replied. "I've been holding back in the past."

Stiles remembered the several times they'd made love and how incredibly hot it had been. Trying to think of something that could be more intense than that caused him to grow instantly hard.

* * *

" _He made fun of Stiles and then_ **shoved** _him aside like he was nothing," Derek growled._

" _Derek, you'll regret whatever it is you're about to do," said Isaac softly. "I know you. Right now you're angry and if he really did hurt Stiles, he's actual human garbage. But if you kill him… you become worse than him."_

" _Stiles and Scott would never forgive you," Erica added._

" _You would never forgive yourself," said Boyd in his deep, smooth voice._

_What his Betas were saying was true. In a while, his rage would pass and he would have this man's blood on his hands. He couldn't live with that guilt. He knelt down and put his face inches from the man's. "You're lucky these three are looking out for me. If I didn't care about them and how they would see me after, your blood and entrails would be scattered all across this place."_

" _Wha-what are you?" the man stammered, fear plainly visible in his eyes._

" _I'm the thing that just spared your life," replied Derek. He shifted back completely with a sigh that seemed to exhale the rage he had felt. Derek then turned to his Betas. "And how exactly did you find me?"_

" _We're part of your Pack. We felt it when you got angry and thought we should come and help you," Isaac said._

_They all began to walk back toward Derek's Camaro. "That's nice, but next time, I'll call you if I need you."_

" _You needed us just now," Erica said, rolling her eyes. "You are part of a Pack now, remember? You don't have to keep up this Lone Wolf persona anymore."_

" _If you three keep lecturing me, I_ **won't** _be part of a pack much longer…" he grumbled. He let them all pile in and set out to drop them off at the loft before running one last errand._

_When he returned to the Stilinski house, Stiles was sitting up in his bed, laptop on his legs. Derek paused in the doorway. "Is there room for me?" he asked timidly._

_Stiles looked up. "Devon, you came back!" he said excitedly before realizing there was something wrong with that sentence. "Darren?" he corrected himself._

_Derek slowly approached the bed, placing a kiss on Stiles' forehead. "Derek."_

" _I'm sorry," Stiles breathed, lines of frustration crossing his face._ What is **with** me today? _he thought in self-admonishment._

" _What are you doing?" Derek asked, peering down to look at the laptop screen. The web browser was open to various sites about frontotemporal dementia._

" _I was trying to figure out how much time I have," he replied. "I don't think it's very long. Some of my symptoms are more advanced than they should be."_

" _Worrying over this isn't going to help matters," Derek said. "Remember what I told you when you asked me what I would do when you didn't remember who I was… or who you are?"_

" _You said you'd remind me," Stiles replied._

" _Exactly. And sometimes I need other people to remind me who I am," Derek said._

" _You're… you," Stiles said, his boyfriend's name slipping away from him again. It was like trying to catch running water through a colander._

" _I am. But sometimes I lose sight of that. My betas taught me that lesson today. But you remind me who I am, too. In so many ways," Derek said._

" _What do you mean?" Stiles asked._

_Derek climbed in next to Stiles, setting the laptop aside and pulled the human close. "When we first met, I was angry. I was pissed off at the world. I had lost everyone I had ever cared about. All I could think about was revenge. But revenge didn't take away the feelings of sadness, anger, and loss. Instead it just made me feel empty. I thought maybe gathering a Pack would help. Werewolves do better when they have a Pack to rely on." He searched Stiles' face, trying to ensure he had some understanding. "And while I care about them, I still felt hollow. Until the first time we kissed. Something as simple as your lips against mine brought me back to the person I used to be. It reminded me of what love actually feels like. It reminded me that I'm a good person… that I actually deserve love."_

_Stiles looked somewhat horrified. "You didn't think you deserve love?"_

" _I thought that everything bad that happened to me was penance for what I did to Paige. Because I took her life from her, I deserved to lose everything and everyone I loved. I believed I was a monster. I tried_ **so** _hard, but nothing worked. Everyone around me still died. Nobody was there to pull me out of my dark places. Except you," Derek said softly. "You gave me back something more precious to me than I can ever put into words and for that, I owe you everything."_

" _You don't owe me anything," Stiles whispered. "Because I am still going to leave you… I'm still dying."_

_Stiles began to cry and Derek pulled him close, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat. "Don't think of it like that," he said, saying the only thing he could bring himself to say in that moment._

* * *

Stiles stared up at the ceiling. His body was covered in sweat and he didn't think he had ever been so exhausted before in his life. If this was what their honeymoon was going to be like, he needed to start working out or doing some sort of endurance training. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. His heart thundered in his ears. This had been going on now for six hours and Derek didn't even seem winded. They had done every position he had ever imagined, and a few he hadn't been creative enough to conceive as even being possible.

There had been at least one position that Stiles _knew_ was only possible due to the fact that Derek was a werewolf. Stiles thought about the tuxedo he was intending to wear at their wedding. He had wanted to wear a white bow-tie. After this, his virtue had been so thoroughly despoiled that he didn't think he could even wear white underwear to his wedding.

Derek's hair was sticking to his forehead and his hairy chest shimmered in the sunlight coming in from the large windows. He walked back toward the bed, naked. His large cock proudly leading the way. Stiles raised a staying hand. "If we're going to go again, I'm going to need some Gatorade or a multivitamin or something."

Derek laughed and flopped down onto the bed next to Stiles, who began absentmindedly caressing the length of the werewolf's sex. "I have a crazy idea," Derek whispered, kissing along Stiles' neck and jaw.

"Yeah?" Stiles breathed as Derek once again moved on top of him. Instead of entering him as Derek had done so many times that day, he just lay there, their bodies entangled. Their members throbbed longingly against one another.

"Let's shower, get dressed, grab Scott and your dad and just go down to the court house," he said. There was untold longing in Derek's voice that twisted Stiles' gut.

"But all the money you've poured into the wedding plans already," Stiles said as Derek began rutting against him. "I think all the hormones are going to your head."

"I think I've never been more clear-headed before in my life," replied Derek.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Stiles grinned ear to ear. "Yeah. Let's do it."

They showered and Stiles put on his tux. He chose to go with black boxers. They seemed the most appropriate.

They stopped and picked up Stiles' dad, then Scott. They had told the other men to dress well, but had given no further instruction or information. It wasn't until they got onto the highway that headed downtown and then took the exit that landed closest to the courthouse did John realize what was going on.

After parking, they headed inside. "What happened to all the time and money and plans for the wedding that's happening in a few months?"

"We're scratching that," Stiles said.

Neither Scott nor John asked any further questions. Stiles and Derek requested their marriage license. There was a judge on duty capable of performing the ceremony.

"Are you ready to do this?" Derek asked.

"Yeah," Stiles replied without hesitation.

Their vows were simple. They promised the one thing that they could or would ever need to promise: to love one another unconditionally until the end of their lives. Their rings were simple. And then at the end, Stiles and Derek kissed each other, officially as spouses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So sorry it took me more than a year to update this. I'm going to be working more diligently on it now. As for this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. It was really imperative for me to showcase the vastly different sides to Derek Hale. I decided to use this chapter to show all facets of him: protective, sexy, vulnerable, angry, romantic, and vengeful. I hope I succeeded. Please let me know what you thought!


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